


Shape of You

by sincewewereeighteen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Because they kinda share that really, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Honestly I don't even consider it angst, I'm Sorry, Just Read it :), Love, M/M, One would think I'd be better with tags by now, Rimming, SLIGHTEST angst possible, Top Harry, Top Louis, Zouis is a BROTP because I MISS IT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9609746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincewewereeighteen/pseuds/sincewewereeighteen
Summary: “Are you coming home tonight?” Zayn asks then, acknowledging Harry’s presence.“I don’t know”, Louis answers him and then looks at Harry. “Am I?” He raises a brow.Harry only smirks and says: “he’s not going home tonight”.Or: the club isn't the best place to find a lover, but somehow they find each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya!  
> I found the beginning of this story in my laptop the other day and @missdesaster made me continue writing, because, according to her, it'd make a great oneshot. Idk about great, but it surely is short - for what I'm used to writing anyways.  
> This is the friends with benefits au we all know too well how it's gonna end, but still read it anyways. I hope you like it. It's light and kind of not me? But I enjoyed writing it. So. There's that.
> 
> FAIR WARNING: Harry sleeps with someone who isn't Louis at some point. But it's like, super fast, so don't worry much about it :)

            The thing about going out every night is that it eventually gets dull.

            Harry’s been bar-hopping since his last semester in uni when his prick of a boyfriend broke up with him for being too girly – “d’you need to let your hair grow that much?”, “are you sure you’re gonna wear this shirt?”, “if you dance like this you’re gonna give them a reason to call us fags”. So he knows every place there is to drink around Oxford and he’s not inclined to accept Liam’s invitation to go to another _amazing_ pub that he swears on his life is simply _epic_.

            Nothing is _epic_ if it becomes a habit – no matter how much alcohol you have in your system, but he ends up going anyway, because he’s got nothing to lose apart from a few hours of sleep; and, if he stays home, chances are that he’ll keep on believing the things Nick used to say about him. Plus, Harry misses who he used to be before he got infected with all of that internalized homophobia.

            He misses being loud and not worrying whether he’s moving his arms too much or not; he misses being able to laugh obnoxiously without having to look around; he misses weird dance moves on the dancefloor and he misses flirting carelessly with no intention whatsoever to take that person home.

 

            He’s thinking about how long it’s been since he even wanted to have sex with somebody when he sees him.

            And when he sees him, nothing actually changes. It isn’t one of those romcoms scenes in which the world stops and music starts playing in the background. When he sees him, he’s being loud, laughing so hard he throws his head back and then drags a blonde girl to the dancefloor when 7/11 starts playing.

            When Harry sees him for the first time, he doesn’t know that a few years from now they’ll have moved to London and will be living in a two bedroom flat, because their best friends will always want to crash there. He doesn’t know that their families will become one and that they’ll have kids before they’re thirty. When he sees him for the first time, he’s just this beautiful, golden skinned boy who seems so, so _happy_ that Harry feels _ashamed_ for being sad.

 

            “Mate, want a pint?” Liam asks over the loud music making Harry look at him.

            “Yea-yeah”, he nods and sits on a stool. When he looks back the boy isn’t there anymore, but it’s okay, because it’s still pretty early.

           

            It starts with a daiquiri. The beautiful boy approaches Harry not even an hour later, with his quiff long gone due to sweat and his cheeks reddened after dancing nonstop to the newest pop songs the DJ was playing, and flashes him a dashing smile. Harry’s been told many times by different people that his own smile is _simply gorgeous_ , but that boy is something else, he swears.

            Everything about him just glows, so when he asks Harry if he can buy him a drink, there isn’t the slightest chance Harry will say anything but _yes, of course_.

            “What d’you wanna drink, Curly?” He asks energetically, still bouncing on his feet to the rhythm of the music.

            “A daiquiri”, he says finishing his second beer of the night. He isn’t even close to being drunk, but he’s got this buzzing feeling that tells him alcohol has started working in his system.

            (This is inaccurate. Throughout the years this feeling sticks with him, and Harry will learn it is a Louis’ thing, not an alcohol one. For now, he blames it on the two Heinekens he’s already had.)

            “Good call”, the boy smiles again and asks for two, saying it’s only polite to accompany him on his drink. “So, Curly, what’s your name?”

            “I’m Harry”, he smiles. “Harry Styles.”

            “Are you famous or something?” He frowns; even in this packed place Harry can tell he’s from Yorkshire due to his strong accent.

            “No, why?”

            “Your name”, he chuckles. “I’m telling ya, Harold, this is a popstar kinda name right there-”

            “Well, sorry to disappoint”, he says, not really sounding regretful.

            “Not disappointing at all”, the boy checks him out shamelessly and winks, turning back to the bar and getting their drinks. “Here you go!’

            “Thank you…”

            “Louis. Tomlinson, since we’re already sharing last names”, _Louis_ says.

            “Louis”, Harry tests the name on this tongue. He loves it. “Louis Tomlinson… Hm…” He pretends to think. “Are you a lawyer then, Louis? You’ve got the name for it”, Harry fake-judges.     

            “Furthest thing ever, young Harold”, he scoffs.

            “It’s just Harry”, he tells him. 

            Harry corrects him three times until he decides Louis is just taking the piss. They exchange information about what they’re studying and where they come from, but never going too deep – just your usual bar, pre-hookup small talk.

            (Louis is studying drama and, in the future, he’ll make a hell of an actor – never leaving the theater, saying it’s much better than TV. Harry, who’s gonna become some kind of politician before he even realizes it, will always have time to revise lines with him, even if it’s between a speech or two.)

            “Who’s the blond girl you were dancing with? Girlfriend?” Harry asks not so subtly when they go for a second round of drinks.

            “Perrie was right, you _were_ looking at me then”, Louis squints his eyes with a smile spreading on his face. “D’you really think I’d be sitting here right now if I had a girlfriend?”

            “Well, you _could_ be in an open relationship—or looking for a threesome”, he says nonchalantly and Louis chokes on his drink, laughing the same way he did when Harry first saw him, throwing his head back, with the difference that _now_ his neck is exposed and really close and it takes everything in Harry not to pull him by the waist and suck a mark right under his jaw.

            “I truly like you, Curly”, he says way more fondly than fifteen minutes ago. Harry counts it as a win. “Not in a relationship and definitely not looking for a threesome—they’re waaay too messy and I much prefer working one on one”, he smirks.

            “In that case-”, Harry finishes the second daiquiri in one gulp, “dance with me, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis takes his hand and lets himself be led. They take it from there.

 

            Tonight Harry receives the most thorough blowjob he’s ever gotten and does the same, equally eager to make him come moaning seven ways through heaven against his and Liam’s door flat. He thanks the Gods his friend pulled tonight as well and isn’t home.

            Louis is gone as soon as he arrived, leaving a wet kiss on Harry’s cheek.

 

-

 

            The second time is the Marguerite that does it for him. It’s one week later and he’s back to the same bar because that’s where he got lucky _plus_ felt happy and alive for the first time in a long time, so he guesses it’s worth the shot. Liam actually liked the girl he spent last weekend with and now they’re going on their first date, so Harry has the flat to himself again and he _so_ hopes to make use of it.

 

            Louis is with a larger group of people tonight and he’s got his arms around a blonde guy who looks too straight for them to be flirting, so Harry just smiles and walks there, glad that Louis is even at the same place again. He doesn’t entertain the thought that he came back here for him – maybe this has been Louis spot for a while and Harry’s the only one who’s creepy here –, but he’s glad that when Louis sees him approaching he doesn’t look put off.

            You see, most people don’t wanna run into their one night stands, especially if they don’t exchange phone numbers. Louis doesn’t seem to mind, though.

            “Curly!” He exclaims as soon as Harry’s close enough to hear.

            “Hey”, Harry waves, not really knowing where to go from here.

            “ _Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation!_ ” The blonde guy sings along with the music and pulls two girls by the hand, walking away from there.

            There’s still one guy – one _very, very handsome_ guy, Harry might add – standing beside Louis, to whom the smaller boy merely glares before he rolls his eyes and speaks up.

            “I’m not a lady”, model guy half mumbles.

            “Might as well be, for how long you spent on that quiff”, Louis responds.

            “Hey, sexist!” The guy accuses and Harry likes him a bit more, although he’s pretty sure Louis was only teasing. “Are you coming home tonight?” He asks then, acknowledging Harry’s presence.

            “I don’t know”, Louis answers him and then looks at Harry. “Am I?” He raises a brow.

            Harry only smirks and says: “he’s not going home tonight”.

            “Cheers, mate”, Louis’ friend raises his pint and walks away, screaming a _see you later, Lou_ that they only catch because they read his lips.

            “Cheeky”, Louis turns to him.

            “Oh, I am?” Harry laughs and pulls him closer, tugging him by the hand and making his body stay only centimeters apart from his own.

            “Yeah”, He smiles, “yes, you are”, and then turns Harry around, pulling him by the hips and fitting his crotch right against Harry’s ass as Beyoncé’s song turns into Drake.

            They dance for five minutes before Louis is attacking his mouth in the middle of the club. You will never hear Harry complaining – at least not now.

            (In a year and a half, Harry’s sister will get married and Louis will get really, really drunk at her wedding; he’ll try to snog Harry in front of his nan, like, _really snog_ , and Harry will get a bit mad. They’ll fight about it in their hotel room, and Harry will sleep on his cousin’s bed, two floors below. Next morning they’ll be okay again.)

 

            Harry kisses him back with intent, not wanting to let go. They rut against each other until they’re both panting into one another’s mouth. It’s just _so_ hot in here; Harry wants to take both of their clothes off as soon as possible.

            “Can we go?”

            Louis thrusts forwards twice before he answers:

            “Thought you’d never ask.”

            They don’t move past the living room again. They get off right there, on Harry and Liam’s couch, like two teenagers who couldn’t wait to get into each other’s pants. Harry wanks them both off and then they sixty-nine. He really, really wants to fuck Louis, the guy’s got a hell of an ass, but doesn’t ask for it. Not tonight. Something tells him they’ll have many other opportunities. Plus, he’d like to be fucked first.

            Once again, Louis doesn’t spend the night. 

            He mumbles something about having an early morning the next day, which is a Saturday, and leaves Harry with a kiss on his forehead this time. Harry blinks and he’s at the door. But then, when he’s just about to leave, he turns to face Harry:

            “See you.” He winks.

            Needless to say, Harry will up at the same club _once again_ next weekend. He’s not even bothered by how easy that makes him seem. He’s young, he’s single, he’s free, and Louis is incredibly fit, right there for him to have an orgasm with, so Harry isn’t bothered in the slightest by the look Liam gives him when he says he might come back with company tonight.

 

            The third time it happens, on another Friday night, it isn’t any drink’s fault. It never was, Harry thinks, but this time they are completely sober, and that’s because they don’t even make it inside the club.

            Harry is walking on the sidewalk when he sees him, accompanied by two people: the same blond guy and the model-looking one from last week. Louis is smoking, resting his body against a wall, wearing a leather jacket. His hair’s soft tonight, no product detected.

            Harry thinks he couldn’t have imagined someone this attractive to him if he had tried, but there Louis is, and when he sees him, he says goodbye to his mates and walks in Harry’s direction, carrying his body with an ease that Harry can only dream of having one day.

            “You waiting for me?” Harry smirks, eyeing him from head to toe at least twice.

            “Something told me you’d show up.” Louis shrugs.

            (That’s exactly what they say to each other on their wedding day. Harry makes it to the end of the aisle and asks Louis the same question. The smile on his soon-to-be husband is larger than life itself, and then Louis repeats the very same words from tonight.)

            “Cocky.”

            “Hopeful.” The other boy chooses to answer, and then steps closer. “Are we even gonna bother to go in tonight?”

            _No._ They absolutely won’t.

            Harry tells him on the way to his flat that they’ll have to make it to his bedroom this time, because his friend didn’t go out tonight. Louis is unfazed, saying that _a bed will be nice for a change_. Harry only laughs and tries not to fond too hard at his soon to be three-night stand. _What even_.

            They do talk a bit this time.   

            Harry finds out that Louis is from Doncaster, he’s twenty-three years old and is about to graduate with no plans of where to go once he finishes uni. He’s one of those guys that will just _swing it_ , and it drives his mother absolutely mad, Louis tells him. Harry also learns he’s a fan of footie and prefers tea to coffee.

            He also tells Louis a few things. He tells him he’s twenty-two, from Holmes Chapel and has one sister – to which Louis replies he’s got _six siblings._ Harry fish-mouths for three seconds and then they laugh, arriving at Harry’s flat.

            “I don’t know if Liam will be in the living room or whatever, but you can ignore him if you’d like.” Harry says. “I don’t really know what’s the etiquette here.” He chuckles.

            It is not the time for Harry to tell him about his past relationship and how that kind of fucked him up in more ways than one, but when he does, Louis will hug him tight and tell him he deserves much better. Harry won’t believe him the first time, still very shaken up by Nick’s terrible influence on him, but Louis won’t stop trying.

 

            As it turns out, Liam isn’t in the living room. Harry can hear _Imagine Dragons_ coming from his friend’s bedroom and he thanks him mentally for this.

            “Don’t judge me, my room is a mess.” Harry warns as he reaches to open the door.

            “I’m not really interested in how tidy you are at the moment, Harry.” Louis grabs his waist from behind and pulls Harry’s back flush against his chest.

            Harry can feel Louis’ hot breath against his neck and _yeah_ , the mood is being settled. Fuck, Harry needs him, anything with him, really.

            As soon as they’re inside Louis kisses him, or he kisses Louis, he really isn’t sure of who initiates it, but it doesn’t matter.

            It’s been really long since something felt so easy and just _right_ , so he goes for it like Louis is his source of air, even though, more often than Harry would like to admit, Louis takes his breath away.

            Harry walks back to his bed and sits down, pulling Louis on top of him. The other boy straddles his thighs and Harry has to bite the inside of his cheeks not to moan too soon from the feeling of Louis’ ass on his crotch. _Has Harry told you how amazing Louis’ ass is?_ Because it is. Amazing. Perfect.

            Louis’ whole body is. Petit yet curvy, the dip of his waist being just the right size for Harry to fit his hands there, grab him firmly, but as gentle as he can. Louis’ face is angular, he’s got cheekbones to die for and Harry can’t even get started on his _arms_ and _thighs_ and—everything. Harry is enthralled by everything Louis, and when he ruts forwards and circles his arms around Harry’s neck, one hand going straight into his curls, Harry knows he’s in a for a treat.

            He lifts his body and then sits again, exactly where Harry’s dick is hardening.

            Harry is nothing but _human_ , and Louis will end up killing him any second now, he’s sure.

            “You feel so good, H.” Louis whispers in his ear. The _H_ he calls him by shouldn’t make his entire body shudder, but it does.

            Louis moves his hands through Harry’s curls disheveling his hair as he kisses him with passion; it’s deep and it’s a bit messy, maybe too wet, their tongues never relenting, just wanting more and sucking more and _taking_ more. He trails kisses down Harry’s jaw and neck, and Harry just goes with it, exposing his neck just so Louis can have his way with him. _Easy, I’m so easy for you_.

            Harry lets out a small gasp when Louis talks to him again, but how could he not?

            “Touch me”, Louis says. And, well, his wish is Harry’s command.

            Harry opens his eyes for a minute, just searching for something in Louis’ own. Even in the dark, with only a bedside lamp illuminating the room, Harry is mesmerized by Louis’ eyes. And it’s not as if he hadn’t noticed them before, of course he did, they are just so, so blue.

            But to simply say that Louis’ eyes are blue is like saying that the sun is yellow: sufficient, but not accurate enough to capture the burning. Right now, in this atmosphere, Louis’ eyes set Harry on fire.

            He touches anywhere he can reach, sometimes even more, stretching his arms to be everywhere at once, removing both of their shirts in the process.

            Louis then grabs Harry’s hands and puts them exactly on his ass, telling him without saying anything that he wants them there, and _yes_ , Harry is _so_ on board with that. He squeezes Louis’ asscheek with one hand, but moves the other to the nape of his neck, bringing him down for another heated kiss. Louis exhales a breathy moan as Harry bites his bottom lip, and Harry finds out, right now, that he wants to make Louis emit this sound over and over again.

            They explore each other’s mouth until they’re both spent, and then they do it some more; tonight, somehow is different from the other two nights they got off together.

            Even if small, some kind of trust already exists between them, at least to know what the other likes and wants. Because of that, Harry uses his full body strength to throw Louis on the bed, flipping him on his back and pressing more deep, rapid kisses to his mouth, rubbing his hard dick on his thigh and making Louis whimper again.

            For the first time tonight, Harry moans, and it happens the exact moment Louis slots one leg between Harry’s, letting him ride his thigh for a while.

            “What’d’you want?” Harry breaks off the kiss and mumbles as he trails wet kisses from Louis’ mouth to his collarbones.

            They’re both in their jeans and this is—this is _mental_ , because it’s just _so fucking hot_ right now.

            “Want you, want your mouth”, Louis’ breath is already labored, but he tugs hardly on Harry’s hair and brings him up again, their raw lips crashing against one another one more time.

            Harry works on Louis’ jeans right after, but he doesn’t stop kissing his hips, wanting to taste every part of this man’s body. It’s just too much and apparently never enough, because it’s just so, so good.

            “Want your mouth, Harry, _please_ ”, Louis whines as Harry starts taking off his jeans, sliding them off this body without a problem, very aware of his own still tight against his body, but not wanting to waste any time on himself while Louis is spread out for him to play with.

            Harry covers his body with his own once again, kissing from Louis sternum to the back of his ear, asking him _where_ he wants Harry’s mouth. Louis stops his hands on Harry’s arms just for a second, blinks twice before opening his mouth. Harry stops what he’s doing too, just looking at him, waiting for an answer.

            “My ass.” He says, but doesn’t look Harry in the eye. Instead, he caresses his curls and bites down on his own lip, looking anywhere but up.

            Harry doesn’t understand why he’s so shy. Sure, eating somebody out isn’t really one (or three) night stand procedure, but then again what kind of _idiot_ wouldn’t want to do that to Louis?

            “You don’t hav—” he starts saying as Harry takes too long to reply, and Harry, well, Harry comes to it, shutting him up with a fast press of lips, saying that _yes, of course I’ll do it, Jesus Christ, did you think I wouldn’t?_

They both chuckle and the air is a little bit lighter right now, but Harry groans as Louis starts turning around in bed. If Harry dies tonight, he’ll die a happy man. And he just might, because Louis will be the death of him.

            He brings both of his hands to Louis’ shoulder blades and lets the tip of his fingers trace a soft line down Louis’ spine. Louis shivers all over, Harry can actually _see_ _and feel_ his body responding to it, and he thinks that there has never been anyone this responsive to him up until now.

            Harry struggles with his own clothes as he takes them off, meanwhile Louis gets impatient, looking over his shoulder to see what the hell Harry is doing. Harry smirks and then gets closer to him again. He hooks his thumbs into Louis’ boxers and slowly pulls them down, creating even more expectations for himself as Louis’ bum is being fully revealed.

            The curly haired boy needs to palm himself as he does so, staring at Louis’ golden skin, inviting him in.

            “So hot, Louis”, he says in a low voice, squeezing his dick and closing his eyes for a second, trying to regain some composure.

            (It will never get easier, controlling himself when he’s naked like this with Louis. He will always want him and want him and then want some more. Even when they’re forty and their kids are sleeping next door.)

            “I’m waiting, Harry.” He teases and wiggles his bum. He’s in all fours, for fuck’s sake, and Harry can’t _move_. “Anytime this century would be great.”

            Ha, such a smart mouth.

            Harry squeezes his eyes shut and then, for the second time, snaps out of his trance, connecting his mouth to Louis’ neck and circling an arm around his body to touch Louis’ dick again. As much as he was trying to joke, Louis is, in fact, needy.

            He strokes him and feels precome fall onto his fingers and uses it for a better slide, wetting Louis’ neck and shoulders as he kisses and bites and revels in Louis’ moans. He licks down Louis’ spine till he reaches his ass, and hears Louis’ intake of breath the second he takes both of his asscheeks in hands.

            Harry watches Louis relax at his touch a few seconds later, and he gives his ass firm squeezes, kissing around his hands and feeling how smooth the skin is.

            “Don’t move”, he whispers and hears Louis whine.

            He spreads the boy’s cheeks in his hands and brings his thumb closer to Louis’ hole – the skin is even _smoother_ there, silky even. Louis clearly came prepared for this and the thought of him getting ready _for Harry_ earlier tonight makes his insides crumble, his mind swirl. Harry moans right before he dives in, licking a fast, long stripe from his balls to the tip of his crack, burying his face between Louis’ asscheeks and then licking around his entrance, wanting to make it slick with saliva.

            It doesn’t take much for Louis to drop to his forearms, whimpering softly in the crook of his arm and going against Harry’s words, fucking back on his face as Harry buries himself there more and more and more. They pant and moan almost together, both very aware of how filthy they’re being.

            “Fuck, this is so good, you’re doing so good, baby”, Louis says, voice broken. The term of endearment does _things_ to Harry; things he can’t quite explain, but he does moan louder at the _baby_ , letting his teeth graze around Louis’ rim and telling him just how good he feels too.

            “Taste so good”, he whispers, blowing hot hair into his hole. “You’re so perfect”, he says and traces his tongue along the ring of muscle again. He teases a bit, holds onto Louis’ hips tighter, feels the boy literally _squirm_ in bed. _Fucking fuck, fuck, shit_ , Harry can’t think, he doesn’t want anything but this, not ever.

            He dips his tongue further in, goes past Louis’ rim this time, and Louis actually screams when Harry starts opening him up with his tongue. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever gotten his far with anyone. He only remembers sloppy rim jobs before he fucked somebody, but never has he wanted to make another person come apart like this, never has _he_ come apart by doing so.       

            This time, he lets the feeling control him. He fucks Louis with his tongue wanting to taste him _more_ each time, like he’s starved and Louis is his favorite taste in the world – he might just become. Louis is _ridiculously_ sensitive and also so, so easy for him.

            “Fuck, Harry, more _please_ ”, he cries out, “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop”, Louis keep chanting.

            Harry pulls back for a second, feels spit dribble on his chin and fuck, he’s dirty, so, so dirty, but he doesn’t even mind. He just needs to get there, he needs to get _Louis_ there. He brings both of his hands to Louis’ cheeks again and kisses him all around, eventually lying flat on his back between Louis’ legs.

            Louis gets the message quickly and sits back, hands on the wall, ass on Harry’s face.  

            “Sh-shit Ha- _Harry_ ”, he chokes out as Harry starts to lick him again, tongue pointed up as he brings Louis’ down. _Oh God, this feels so good_ for him too. He feels Louis circling his hips around him and exhales a guttural sound, feeling every part of his own body react to the magnificent feeling that is eating Louis’ ass.

            When Harry spreads his cheeks more and licks around instead of inside, Louis bum suspended in air, and he can see the exact moment that the other boy starts trembling. His legs are jelly by the sides of Harry’s head, and his hole is contracting on nothing as Harry teases him one more time.

            “Get your tongue in me right now”, Louis says trying to be demanding but sounding very weak.

            Harry obeys though. He dives in one more time and sucks and licks and even bites. He’s holding onto Louis’ hips for dear life now, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to leave marks there, but he doesn’t care… He really doesn’t.

            “I’m- I’m so close.” Louis whimpers.

            “Ride my tongue.” Harry voices. Yep. This is definitely a first.

            Louis is quick to do it, using Harry’s face as he pleases, sitting down, moving up, circling his hips once again. Harry opens his eyes just to watch him, and he’s… He’s otherworldly. While his hips are restless, Louis’ upper body doesn’t seem to be able to take it anymore. He’s got his forehead rested on his arms in front of him, and it only takes Harry sucking one more time for him to come untouched, crying out Harry’s name and scooting down to sit on Harry’s chest.          

            Harry now has come all over his face, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind. He runs his fingers on Harry’s cheek and feeds him some of it, bending down until their mouths are connected again.

            _“You’re filthy”_ , Harry murmurs.

            “Just for you.” Louis answers back and then turns around.

            Harry’s been leaking for a long time now, and it definitely won’t take him much to come. Still, Louis strokes him hard and fast, breathing onto his cock and making Harry see starts.

            “C’mon, pretty boy”, he says, “come down my throat”, and takes Harry inside his mouth.

            It’s embarrassing how he doesn’t even last a minute after that, but as he feels Louis’ lips closing around his head, his orgasm builds up fast. Seconds later he spills into the older guy’s mouth, letting the feeling run through his whole body, stretching his legs and curling his toes and seeing _Louis_ instead of starts, which, in Harry’s book, has just become much, much better.

 

            This time Harry could swear Louis was going to stay. They lie in bed for a long time, both spent, trying to regain their breaths. Harry gets up to brush his teeth and goes back into the room with a wet towel to clean them up. Louis looks cozy, cuddly, and smiles serenely as Harry lies by his side.

            Louis kisses him like boyfriends kiss, and for a minute there Harry has the misguided impression that tonight this will become something more.

            (Not yet, fate thinks. But soon.)

            “What?” Harry asks already smiling when he feels Louis laughing lightly into their kiss.

            “Your poor flatmate”, Louis laughs, rests his head on Harry’s chest. “Is he on the other side of this wall?”

            “Maybe…” He muses.

            “Oh my God. I hope he has some powerful earplugs.”

            “Too late to worry about him now, don’t you think?” Harry laughs more and Louis does too. So Harry kisses him one more time.

            He is in the best post sex moment of his life, he thinks. It’s light. It’s easy.

            “I should get going.” Louis then says.

            “You could stay the night, you know?” He offers nonchalantly, even if he is begging on the inside. One thing Harry misses a _lot_ from having a boyfriend is sleeping next to somebody. “I make a mean breakfast. Promise Liam will be okay with it, he’s a great lad.”

            Louis seems to ponder for a few seconds. Harry gets hopeful, but…

            “Not tonight.” Louis sighs. Harry’s face falls and he doesn’t really have time to hide it before Louis pecks his mouth again. “’M sorry, Hazz, I just—this... The prospect of breakfast in the morning is great, but this… This isn’t something I’m very good at doing. Is that okay?” He asks. Louis looks and sounds sincere.

            How can Harry hold honesty against him?

            “Y-yeah, it’s okay.” He replies. “It’s whatever you want.” Harry assures him and takes his fringe out of his face, keeping a hand in his hair. “I’ll walk you out.” He sighs and moves to get up, but Louis pulls him by the arm again and kisses him hard. And Harry… Harry kisses back. Of course he does.

 

            Harry goes into the kitchen to get them some water while Louis dresses up, and they move quietly around the house not to wake Liam up… That is, if he managed to sleep at all with both of them being bloody loud.

            Louis accepts a bottle of water and thanks him immensely, pecking him on the mouth on his way out. Well, _that_ is an improvement. Harry closes the door and sighs, turning around only to hear someone knocking on it again.

 

            “Hey”, Louis says when Harry opens. “I don’t know if I’m going to sound like a dick or a creep, maybe both, but— I do wanna see you again, I just- I just don’t want to have to go to a nightclub hoping you’ll be there?”

            “So you also went back there to find me, uh?” He smirks.

            “ _Also?”_ Louis smirks back. _Damn,_ idiot. Harry isn’t even capable of teasing Louis. He’s just stupid around him, he’s found out. “Yeah, I went there that second and third time hoping you’d be there, but don’t get cocky, doesn’t suit you.”

            “It suits you”, Harry offers.

            “I know.” He laughs. “So, phone number?” Louis asks and hands him his phone for Harry to type his number in.

            “You gonna ask me out on a date, Louis Tomlinson?” The curly haired boy laughs, _hoping, hoping, hoping_.

            “Harry.” Louis sighs.

            “I’m kidding, you know? Just sex is great.” He lies.

            “Just sex is easy.” Blue-eyed replies. “We’ll talk.” He winks and walks away. Harry closes the door and goes back to bed.

            Despite being extremely tired, he doesn’t sleep very well tonight.

 

-

 

            And so it begins. The calls, the texts, the mid-week mind-blowing sex.

            Louis first texts him on Wednesday evening to ask what he is doing and if he can come over. Apparently he had a terrible day and needs to get off. Yes. That’s how he says it: _had a bad day, need to get off, are you at home?_ Harry texts him back an emoji, and minutes later Louis is there, as if he was already on his way.

            Next time is on a Saturday. He texts from a nightclub, says there’s no one interesting there and asks if Harry is up for it. Harry is out eating pizza with Gemma, his sister, and some of their friends, and he politely excuses himself to meet Louis at an ally nearby. _They really have no shame_.

            On Tuesday, Liam says he’s going out and doesn’t know if he’s coming back, something about having a day off tomorrow and a date tonight. Liam, contrary to Harry, seems to have luck in the love department. Harry just gets sex – but he isn’t complaining. Especially not when he texts Louis saying he’s _flatmate free, what are you doing?_ and Louis replies he’s on his way.

           

            When Harry opens the door, half an hour later, he can see Louis’ hair is still wet from the shower, and he looks a bit tired. If the dark circles under his blue eyes tell him anything is that Louis probably had another restless night, but when Harry asks him about it, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he steps into the flat and backs Harry against the wall, holding Harry with firm hands grasping his hips.

            “Hi.” He breathes into Harry’s neck.

            “Hi yourself”, Harry smirks. He likes Louis, to a certain degree.

            “Liam’s really gone?” Louis asks. Harry’s insides do not flip just because Louis remembers Liam’s name, which Harry’s only told him once. They don’t. Anyways.

            “Yeah…” He answers and dives in for a kiss. Louis’ response is quick, and just as good as Harry remembers from days ago.

 

            Up until now, they’ve only exchanged hand jobs, blow jobs and rim jobs. But they haven’t really fucked. Not yet. Harry intends to change that tonight.

 

            “You look so good with your hair up, fuck”, Louis muffles a moan in Harry’s neck before throwing him onto the bed, quickly taking off his clothes and hovering Harry’s body with his own.

            “Didn’t even notice it was up”, Harry answers truthfully, but then closes his eyes because Louis moves down to remove his joggers.

            Louis is quick, skilled, and he already knows what makes Harry tick. He flicks his nipple with one hand and uses the other to stroke him to full hardness, and he kisses him just right while swiping his thumb over Harry’s slit, but—there’s something missing. Harry wants more from him. _Needs_ more.

            One day Louis will be able to read him completely – mind, _body_ , and soul. One day, not far away from now, they’ll only communicate with their body language and glances.

            For now, Harry has to ask.

            “Lou—Lou—need more.”

            “What’d’you want?” Louis backs away, looks him in the eyes. _You_ , Harry wants to answer, but he can’t be that cheesy. Cheesiness doesn’t exist between people who have their kind of deal.

            Harry settles for:

            “Want you to fuck me.”

            And if it’s the best anyone has ever fucked him, he doesn’t tell Louis yet.

 

-

 

            They’re at it for two months when they stumble on each other at a club. It’s a different club from the one they first met, and somehow they’re both with the same people.

            This time, Liam is there with his _girlfriend_. Harry’s sister is there with her _boyfriend_. The four of them ganged against Harry tonight and took him out of the house to have another _proper single experience_. It didn’t matter how much Harry said he _was_ living “the single life”, none of them bought it, because “you’ve been fucking the same guy for two months without being in a relationship, it’s time to meet other dudes”, his sister said.

            So here Harry is, with two couples and a beer in hands, dancing to the sound of Lady Gaga’s new single, eyeing the cute blond lad that keeps checking him out from the other side of the bar.

            Harry turns around to tell Liam he’s gonna go there when he feels something wet on his sleeve and a _so sorry mate_ coming from a very tiny human being. Someone he knows very well.

            “You gotta be kidding me”, he laughs.

            Louis looks up and goes rigid when he notices it’s Harry.

            “You stalking me?” The blue-eyed guy smirks.

            “Could ask you the same thing, mate.” Harry laughs. “I’m just here with a few friends.”

            “Yeah, yeah- same, I—”

            “Louis, wha—oh, hi!” One of Louis’ friends talk to him. “I’m Niall”, he speaks loudly, stretches out a hand for Harry to shake. First thing Harry notices about this guy: _Irish_.

            “Harry.”

            “Ha—” Niall frowns and then looks at Louis, “you didn’t say you had invited him, mate! Nice to finally meet ya, Harry, Louis rarely shuts up abo—”

            “I didn’t, Niall.” Louis screams too. It’s all very loud. “I literally just stumbled on him.”

            “ _And_ spilled his beer on me.” Harry remarks.

            “That’s so funny.” Niall laughs loudly.

            “I’m here with a few friends.” He offers.

            “So are we, maybe you guys wanna join us on our booth? We can make space for everyone…” The Irishman offers.

            The panic is clear on Louis’ face. He’s made it very obvious, from the beginning, that their thing was only between the two of them. He didn’t want to involve anyone, he didn’t want complicated. And if Harry is being completely honest, uncomplicated has been working just fine for him too. So he refuses Niall’s offer, thanks him, and says he was actually on his way to do something else.

            “Yeah? What?” Louis raises an eyebrow and Niall walks away.

            “Well, we’re not exclusive right?” Harry asks.

            “Course not.”

            The way Louis replies that fast doesn’t sting. It. Does. Not.

            “So, I was on my way to do that.” Harry winks and points to the blond guy.

            “Oh.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Okay. ‘M gonna do someth-someone else too.” Louis says.

            “Good luck, _mate_.” Harry says and goes to talk to the man he’s yet to meet.

 

            Harry dances three songs, a bit more than ten minutes, and then he feels someone pulling him by his shirt. He crashes on Louis’ chest and doesn’t have time to say anything, because Louis tongue’s already there invading his mouth. They blow each other in the toilet, and then fuck in Louis’ car. Louis, ever so polite, drops Harry home after that, and Harry shoots his sister a text saying that he’s _fine_ ; he got what he really wanted tonight.

 

-

 

            The only thing Harry likes about the end of the semester is that summer holidays are coming up and he’ll be able to do everything he wants without having to set an alarm clock. Still, the end of the semester brings final tests and final tests are stressing.

            Louis is stressed too, so stressed that, apparently, texts aren’t enough for him anymore. Harry excuses himself from a class to pick up the phone.

            “Did anything happen?” He asks.

            _“Good morning to you too, Harold.”_

            “I was in class, Lou.” Harry sighs.

            “Sorry, sorry, ‘s just—can I see you tonight?”

            “Liam’s home tonight. And I’ve got to study. I’m sorry. Not all of us can be straight A students effortlessly—well, _gay A_ students.” Harry jokes. Louis is very, very smart. Plus, he graduates in a couple of weeks; he doesn’t have anything else to do but look pretty, which he does, all the time. It’s annoying.

            Harry’s thinking about how pretty Louis is when he remembers to focus back on their conversation…

            _“… be quiet.”_

            “What?”

            _“We can be really quiet._ ” Louis promises.

            “We really can’t.” He smirks.

_“We can try really hard? Pun super intended?”_

            “You’re ridiculous.” Harry rolls his eyes. “I mean it, Lou. I have to study.” He voices. Louis doesn’t reply. “D’you really want to see me that much tonight?” He jokes.

_“No, I—never mind, Hazz, sorry, I’ll just—”_

            “Seven pm, bring pizza, I have beer.” Harry gives in.

            _“This is not a date, Styles, I won’t—”_

            “You will, because I have to study _and_ be fucked and those are very energy-consuming things, therefore you’ll provide for me. Take it or leave it, Tomlinson.” Harry smiles despite himself. He likes Louis so much. Even his voice on the phone being all weird and cute at the same time does things to Harry.

            Louis sighs on the other line.

            _“See you later, curly.”_

            Harry blushes the rest of the class thinking about the things he wants to do with Louis tonight…

 

            He just doesn’t accomplish them.

            By the end of the day, he is absolutely _wrecked_. Between his morning class and his afternoon shift at the university library, he just wants a cold shower and a large cup of expresso so he can endure his night studies.

            When Louis gets there, at exactly seven thirty with a peperoni pizza in hands (because _you can’t go wrong with peperoni, Harold!_ ), Harry looks at him and wants to cry. Harry wants him _so_ much, but he is _so_ tired.

            “Hey, you okay?” Louis asks, setting the pizza down on the kitchen counter.

            “Y-yeah, ‘m good.”

            “Where’s Liam?”

            “Must be getting here any time soon, has just left work”, he checks the clock on the wall. “Thanks for bringing the pizza, ‘m starving.”

            “Stress can do that to you.” Louis acknowledges. “I’ve handed my last paper this week, now ‘m just waiting for my graduation and my last holiday before starting me first real job.” It’s probably the first semi-personal thing Louis tells Harry willingly.

            “Really? Oh, that’s awesome, Lou”, the nickname escapes, and Harry thinks it’s not for the first time. “You gonna teach drama at some high school or something?” He smiles, eating his first slice of pizza. _God, it’s good_.

            “That was the plan, yeah…” Louis says and bites the insides of his cheeks, trying to hold something back.

            “But…?” Harry asks.

            “Can I trust you?” Louis squints his eyes.

            “We’re friends with benefits, Louis. The ‘friends’ part exists too. Course you can trust me.”

            “I just—I’ve only told me mom and Zayn and Niall.”

            “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” Harry chuckles.

            “No, I—it’s something I’m really excited about? Haven’t been sleeping much, mind, but, yeah. I auditioned to a really big production a month or so ago? I was really stressed, trying to get lines inside me head so I could really focus on the performance and—”

            “And you got it?”

            “It’s not a big part, but it’s—something?”

            “Louis. Tell me!”

            “ _Les Misérables._ The musical? Imma be Marius’ friend, Enjolras? I don’t know if you know, but there was an opening, and it was a shot in the darkest of darks I swear-HARRY WHAT!” Louis cackles up a laugh when Harry literally sweeps him off his feet and hugs him real tight.

            (Twenty-five years from now, Louis will be invited back for a special performance. Harry and their three children – two girls, one boy – will be there on the front row.)

            “Congratulations, Louis, that’s major!” He keeps saying, as they twirl in the air.

            And that’s how Liam finds them. They don’t even hear the door opening, caught in their own little world as Harry kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. Neither of them mentions that this is the first time they’re kissing without anything sexually implied, but when Liam clears his throat, they both separate with surprised expressions on their faces.

            “Li, hi”, Harry says too quickly, making Liam raise an eyebrow. “Uh- this is Louis, Louis, this is Liam, my flatmate.”

            “Nice to meet ya.” Louis doesn’t really move from his spot, but he still tries a smile.

            “You too, nice to hear your voice when you’re not moaning for a change.” Liam jokes.

            “Liam!”

            “Had that coming”, Louis raises both hands as if he’s saying _fair enough_ and they both chuckle.

            “Good to know your boy can handle banter, Hazz.” Liam smiles.

            “Not my boy.”

            “Not his boy.”

            They say at the same time. If Liam senses the awkwardness in the air, he doesn’t comment on it. Bless him.

            “But—” Louis fills in the silence. “I am the king of banter, Lima.”

            “It’s Liam.”

            “It doesn’t matter, he’ll call you what he wants.” Harry rolls his eyes.

            “You’re such a fast learner, Harold.” Louis praises him and Liam laughs.

            “Want some pizza, Li?” Harry offers.

            “Nah, mate, ate something before coming home. Gonna shower and go to bed ‘cause I’m knackered. This is the semester I die, you just wait.”

            “Don’t be a baby, we’re on the same boat, my friend.” Harry places a hand on his shoulder.

            Liam snorts and nods, telling Harry about something funny that happened today. Louis sits there and watches, eating his slice of pizza, smiling at the right moments when Liam tries to include him.

            Liam studies at the same university as Harry; they met on their first year, but they study completely different things. Liam studies _physics_ of all things, and one day  Harry will understand what the hell he is going to do with his degree; for now, he just listens to him rant and rant about words Harry only pretends he understands, but that certainly amount to something like: “I’m fucked now but I know I’m gonna be rich in the future”. It’s fair enough, Harry figures.

            “Okay, so, goodnight you two… Try to not break the wall?” He mocks. Louis has a thing for banging walls when he’s being eaten out.

            “Bye, Liam.” Harry sighs.

            “Night, Logan. Nice to meet ya.” Louis says.

            “You deserve each other”, Harry’s friend mumbles and smiles a bit, waving them goodnight as he disappears into the hallway.

           

            Once Harry and Louis finish eating, they go to the bathroom to brush their teeth, Louis using his finger and Harry’s toothpaste, and after that, both head to Harry’s bedroom. With food in his system, Harry’s even lazier than before, struggling to keep his eyes open. Fuck, he forgot the coffee. It’s all Louis’ fault.

 

            “I’m sorry you had to meet him”, _not really_ , “I know you didn’t want to get personal.” He tells Louis, closing the door behind him.

            “It’s all right, he’s a nice lad.” Louis smiles, making himself comfortable in Harry’s bed. He looks good in Harry’s bed. “Come here.”

            When Harry hits the bed, he swears to God he holds back tears. His mattress is _so_ comfortable; he needs to sleep so, so bad.

            Louis kisses him softly, and doesn’t try much more. When Harry deepens the kiss, trying to get in the mood, Louis pushes him away.

            “Why don’t I go out and get you the strongest coffee money can buy while you start studying?”

            “Louis… You don’t need to. I know our arrangement, what you came here for.” Harry says it out loud because the more time passes, the more he needs to remind himself.

            _Friends with benefits_.

            _Not exclusive._

_Single._

            “Hey, you said so yourself… There’s a part called _friends_ in what we do, right? A friend would go out there and buy you coffee so you don’t fall asleep on your books.” He smiles and Harry caves.

            (And it’ll always be like this. They will never be able to say no to the other. Unless they’re talking about orgasms delay, in which case, they’ll even like it. But yeah… They’re very much unable to say anything but _yes_ when’s the other asking.)

           

            Louis goes out and buys Harry a very strong, big coffee. He sets himself on Harry’s bed and tells him to start studying; Louis entertains himself with his best lover _Netflix_.

            “You’ll get a blow job if you finish the first part of your revision by eleven pm.” Louis looks at his phone. “Setting up the timer. Aaaand, _go_.”

            Harry ends up getting two blowjobs, giving Louis one in return and then one hand job. It all happens amongst revision, and Harry _actually_ gets some work done. Louis leaves the flat after one am, and Harry can’t sleep until three. It has nothing to do with the coffee he drank a few hours before.

 

-

 

            **Does the _friends_ part of our deal include helping an idiot who forgot his essay at home?** Harry texts Louis before he can talk himself out of it.

            His cellphone rings only a couple of seconds later.

            _“What do you need, Harold? I’m a busy man.”_ Comes Louis voice.

            “My final assignment, the grade is half the test I’m about to take and the essay I forgot at home, I don’t even know how. I called Liam, but he isn’t answering, must be taking a test now too… And my other friends are, well, here, in class with me. There’s no way I can go home and make it back in time and I just—”

            _“Jesus, breathe”_ , Louis laughs. _“D’you keep a key under the mat or something?”_

            “Flower vase.”

            _“Predictable.”_ He makes fun of him. _“I’ll be there in a while. Send me your exact location, yeah? Your campus is huge_.”

            “I- will. I’ll owe you forever.” Harry sighs in relief.

            _“You’ll pay me all right tonight.”_

            “Can’t wait.” The curly one jokes, but it isn’t a joke at all. Oh damn.

            They hang up the phone so Harry can concentrate on his test and he _promises_ his professor that by the end of it he’ll have Harry’s essay on his desk. Mr. Conrad just nods and hands Harry a sheet of paper, telling him to make it back to his place.

            Luckily, this last subject is one that Harry doesn’t have any problems with. He finishes the test within thirty minutes out of one hour and twenty, and just needs to stay there a little longer so Louis can arrive. Louis is quick, though, and on the thirty-eight minute mark, he knocks on the door. Harry jumps out of his chair faster than his heart jumps in his heart, and takes his stuff.

            He gets to the door and takes the essay from Louis’ hands, handing it to the professor and thanking him immensely for being so great with him. _The perks of always being a great student, Mr. Styles_ , his professor replies. By the corner of his eyes, Harry can see Louis smiling at the door; he looks fond, to say the least.

            When Harry gets to him, he seems a bit more composed.

            “All right?” Louis asks.

            “Yes, thank you so much.” Harry hugs him.

            “No problem, H.”

            “I wanna kiss you.” He says before he can control himself.

            “Am I stopping you or somewh—” Harry kisses him. “That’s better.”

            Louis circles his arms around Harry’s neck and Harry holds his waist, turning them around and pressing Louis against his classroom wall. The hallway isn’t that full, considering that there are lots of students still taking their exams, but the few people that are passing can’t help but take a look.

            They don’t notice it now, and they won’t ever notice this in the future, but the two of them work like a magnet – they’re drawn to one another but, more than that, they draw other people in as well.

                        When people look at them now, they can almost feel all the undiscovered and still in development love that is radiating, and the fact that they’re both so unaware of that, _Louis_ even more, makes this even more beautiful, the way that bittersweet things usually are.

            Harry can feel the taste of chocolate-chip ice cream on Louis’ tongue and he wants some of that too, so he kisses him deeper, slides their tongues faster, sucks like Louis is his source of air, and when he finds out he isn’t, he draws back only a little to breathe, but keeps pressing their mouths together again and again.

            “I resent you for not bringing me ice cream.” Harry whispers between pecks.

            “Bought on my way here. C’mon, let’s get some. _Friend_.” Louis smiles.

            “Wish I could…” Harry’s face falls. “But I need to go to the library, today’s my last shift there.”

            “Oh, you work at a library?”

            “It’s here on campus”, Harry explains and they start walking together. “I need to get a real internship, something related to what I want to do in the future, so this is, like, my _last last_ shift.”

            “And what do you really want to do in the future?”

            “Something big?” Harry kind of asks. “I just—wanna make a difference, somehow, and I know that’s stupid, what do I know, right?” He snorts. “But… I mean, I’m too young to give up on my dreams, I reckon.”

            “That’s not stupid at all, Harry. God knows where I’d be if I’d told myself I was stupid for wanting to be an actor a few years ago.” Louis smiles kindly.

            There is something about Louis in the daylight that settles into Harry in a different way. Something that makes the other boy shine even brighter. The sun doesn’t stand a chance, he thinks. Not when Louis is around.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yes, of course. So, where would you like to begin with?”

            “Are you actually interested in this or d’you wanna get in my pants in a restroom stall?” Harry chuckles.

            “Harry.” Louis rolls his eyes. “I can get in your pants anywhere at any time with or without getting to know you.” He laughs. “This is me being friendly and actually wanting to know it.”

            Harry thinks for a while, then he opens a smile.

            “Think I’d like to work with something like a non-governmental organization? Maybe for kids on the streets, or elderly people who are abandoned by their families… Something related to the LGBTQ+ community?”

            “Anything good.” Louis states.

            “Anything good.” He agrees.

            “I have a friend who works for the LGBTQ switchboard… Actually, she was there the first time we met. Perrie, her name. The blond I was dancing with.” He tells him, and Harry nods. “Anyways… Headquarters’ in London, but they have an office here, I can talk to her, maybe they’ll have something for you.”

            “You’d do that?” Harry’s eyes widen.

            “Course, curly.”

            “I want to kiss you again.”

            “I’m not going to stop you; _again_ ”, Louis rolls his eyes but closes it for good as soon as Harry kisses him one more time.

            They walk in silence for a few more minutes, and then Harry reaches his destination. Louis goes back to his car with a promise of seeing him tonight, and Harry cannot wait for this day to pass faster.

 

            Tonight Harry comes with three fingers up his ass and Louis marking his collarbones, and then eats the other boy out in the shower while he, inevitably, bangs the wall. Before leaving, Louis makes sure to apologize to Liam and Harry’s flatmate just throws a pillow at him. They both laugh and Harry kisses him again at the door.

 

            “Do you know what you’re doing?” Liam goes into parent-mode.

            “Uh- having great sex?” Harry smiles, sitting by his side.

            “And falling in love?”

            “We’re just friends, Liam.”

            “Of course.” His friend snorts.

            “I won’t fall for him.”

            _Or will I?_

-

 

            On his second week of holidays Harry realizes two things: 1) he really needs to start looking for an internship that is related to what he is studying in case Perrie doesn’t contact him, 2) he needs to go visit his family. And he wants to see Louis again. Okay, three. But the Louis part doesn’t count. Or it does. You decide. Does it count? Damn.

            They saw each other yesterday and here is Harry restless in bed, trying to convince himself he doesn’t need to talk to Louis before bed. Louis is out with Zayn anyways, he told him. They went to a concert or something, Harry’s not sure, but the fact is: Louis is out with his best friend, a _real_ friend, one he doesn’t have sex with. But one who knows everything there is to know about Louis Tomlinson.

            Harry doesn’t know much about Louis. And now that he stops to think about it, he doesn’t even know enough, not compared to what he wants to know. Which side of the bed is Louis’ favorite? How does he take this tea in the morning? Is he really grumpy or really soft?

            (In such little, little time, he’ll learn that Louis’ side is the right one, his tea is with a bit of milk but _no sugar_ , and he is a mix of grumpy _and_ soft, which makes him just perfect.)

 

            It’s two in the morning, Harry’s still awake, and a text lights up his screen.

            **_Zayn went off with a one-night stand and I have the flat to myself. Want to come over?_**

It’s the first time in three and a half months that Harry is invited to Louis’ place. He never questioned it, never really minded, but the fact that Louis is inviting him now makes his insides go all crazy. This _is_ a booty text, Harry’s very aware of that, but it’s something. It’s something different.

            The weather is absolute crap outside; despite it already being summer, it’s raining insanely and Harry really doesn’t like to drive in the rain. Still, he gets up, throws some clothes on, ties his hair up and knocks on Liam’s door, asking him for his car-key.

            “You going over to Louis’s?” Liam asks. “Why do I even ask?!” He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Keys are on the kitchen table, I think.”

            “Thanks, Li.” Harry smiles. “Hey, why are you alone? Where’s your girl?” Harry’s pretty sure there was a girl with Liam when he got home earlier today.

            “Couldn’t sleep over, she’s going to drive to her mom’s place tomorrow morning.”

            “Oh.”

            “Yeah…”

            “I need to visit my mom, too. Think I’ll go in the middle of the week.” He says by the door.

            “That’s a good plan.” Liam smiles and Harry nods. “Hey, Hazz?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Promise me you’ll make sure he’ll catch you if you fall.”

            “I’m not falling, Liam.”

            “It’s two in the morning, it’s raining, and you’re going after him. You’re falling, mate.”

            Harry ponders his friend’s words and tries to put himself in Liam’s place. He looks at the situation as an outsider and… Yes, he can see his point. But for now there is just… Nothing. Harry just _wants_ to see Louis because he _misses_ the sex. He surely doesn’t miss his voice or the freckles on his upper cheeks; he doesn’t even miss the way his hair falls onto his eyes. So. Harry’s fine.

            “I’ll be careful.” Harry says. But it’s not a promise. He doesn’t break those, and something tells him he’d break this one if he made it now.

 

            He makes it to Louis’ place in ten minutes, following the directions the other boy gave him over the phone. As soon as he gets there he is buzzed up. Louis lives on the third floor of a five-floor building. It doesn’t look like much, but when Harry enters the flat, he notices it has character.

            “I thought calling you in the middle of the night was a shot in the dark.” Louis confesses, letting him in.

            “Had a lot in my mind, couldn’t sleep.” Harry shrugs. “Nice place.”

            “Meh—it’s ours.” Louis says. “Zayn and I were so broke when we moved here… We managed to do some good things after a year though. D’you want anything? Water? Beer?”

            “Not really.”

            “Well then…” Louis smiles and pulls him by the hem of his shirt, in the direction of his bedroom.

 

            As soon as the door is closed Harry is on him, pinning him to the wall – _Harry really likes to do that_ – and attacking his neck at first, sucking a bruising kiss on his throat as he tightens his hands on Louis’ hips, thrusting his own forwards so they can get some friction right away.

            Louis doesn’t seem satisfied enough and buries his hand in Harry’s hair, bringing their mouths together and fervently licking into it – it’s _good_. It’s hot and it’s fast, and, if not love, Harry is definitely _in lust_ with this man.

            When they need air, Harry separates their bodies and swiftly takes Louis’ shirt off, attaching his mouth to his neck once again and trailing down to his chest, grazing his teeth on the words written right there on his collarbones. _It is what it is_ , they say.

            Their bodies are pressed tightly, and Harry wants his hands to be everywhere: arms, waist, _thighs_ , bum, meanwhile Louis’ focuses on Harry’s hair and his nape, digging his nails there and then just gazing them softly, as they go from one side to the other. Harry shivers all over and feels his cock twich in his pants.

            “Lou- Louis”, he whispers into his mouth, but Louis kisses his own name right out of Harry’s lips, kissing him harshly and then pulling Harry’s bottom lip with his teeth, roaming his hands on Harry’s back now till they reach his ass. Louis squeezes them firmly and brings his hips forwards one more time.

            Harry moans at the feeling and tries to communicate with _words_ again, but a few seconds later, when his own hands move to the front of Louis’ jeans to take them off, Harry realizes that words aren’t that necessary anymore. He, somehow, already knows what Louis wants. And Louis, well, Louis already seems to know what Harry needs.

            They pant into each other’s mouths as Harry works on Louis’ jeans and Louis does the same to him. Both desperate to get their clothes out of the way, but then they’re right there, pressed together again. Harry takes matters into his own hands and pulls Louis up by the back of his thighs, making his back hit the wall a bit forcefully, hearing the _thud_ noise that it makes, but being distracted by the most beautiful whimper leaving Louis’ mouth.

            “Please”, the other boy says and Harry swipes his tongue across his lips, gently pushing it in as he presses forwards, their dicks sliding together. “ _Please_ ”, Louis says once again, rocking down against Harry’s body, making Harry’s entire world stop just so he can be right in this moment.

            He doesn’t think he’s ever been this _present_ for something as he is for their activities tonight. Somehow he knows that this is monumental. Deep, deep down, subconsciously even, Harry recognizes this time as different from the others. Earth is shifting because of them, he believes.

            “What d’you want?” Harry asks in his ear, Louis now digging his nails in his shoulders. “Anything, anything at all, I’ll give it to you”, he presses forwards again, they both moan loudly. “What d’you want?”

            “Want to _, aaaah_ ”, he growls at a hard grind, “want you to fuck me.”

            “Fuck.” Harry whispers, “fuck”, he tightens his grip on Louis’ thighs, certain that they’re already marked, and slowly walks Louis towards his bed, carefully dropping his body on the mattress.

            Harry wants this to be hot, and he is sure it’s already going to be memorable, but he also wants this to be gentle.

            Louis trails one hand down to Harry’s cock and starts to stroke it; it’s slow at first, but as soon as Harry gives in to the feeling Louis fastens his pace, mouthing at Harry’s chest and making him fuck into Louis’ fist, losing control of time, space and himself for a couple of minutes there. Harry then bats Louis’ hand away, knowing that he’ll come too soon if they keep this up and looks around for lube and a condom.

            “Drawer.” Louis says weakly.

            “You’re not a cliché at all…” Harry muses, but as soon as he has the items in hands, Louis rolls them over in bed and straddles Harry’s body.

            “C’mon, Hazz. Open me up real good so I can ride those long fingers of yours”, he says filthily and Harry needs to close his eyes and squeeze the base of his cock before he does anything at all. “Fuck me, you’re so fucking fit.” Louis whines.

            “Likewise”, Harry replies. “Turn around”, he taps on Louis’ waist, “suck me while I finger you.”

            “Sure you can handle it?” Louis raises an eyebrow as he turns his body around.

            “Can _you_?” Harry smirks, but before he even coats his fingers with lube Louis already has the tip of his cock enveloped by the tight heat of his mouth and _ok maybe this wasn’t a good idea fuck Louis fuck, shit_. He might’ve said that aloud. Who knows. He thinks he did, because Louis moans around his dick.

            Damn it.

            Louis is right there, bent over for him, and Harry needs to get to work. He coats his fingers with lube and spreads Louis’ cheeks with one hand, eyeing his pink hole hungrily as he feels Louis’ slick lips wrapped around the head of his cock again, sucking on the crown and just _teasing teasing teasing_.

            When the first finger goes in, Louis moans. And yes, Harry’s had his tongue and fingers inside Louis before, but, as he’s already stated, this feels different. This is leading to something else.

            “Feels so good”, Louis pulls out to say and then starts licking Harry’s shaft. It’s good, it’s fucking _amazing_ , but with this, Harry can control himself better and make it better for Louis too.

            “You’re so pretty, Lou. So, so pretty”, he whispers as he pumps one finger in and out of Louis, his whole contracting at the invasion and Harry’s absolutely salivating, so he removes his finger and allows himself a few minutes of really _tasting_ him before they move forwards with this.

            Whoever says foreplay isn’t important, definitely doesn’t know how to have sex.

            The second his mouth’s on Louis’ rim, Louis’ mouth is back on his dick, and Harry’s so, so into the moment that he can’t help but fuck it, causing Louis to gag around his length and—

            “I’m sorry.”

            “’S okay, you’ve earned the right to fuck my throat”, comes Louis’ raspy voice and then he’s on him again.

            From then on, Harry really doesn’t know how they managed not to come. Louis takes him so, so well, and Harry’s caught between fucking him with his tongue or fucking his mouth with his dick and he never thought he’d have such pleasure. This is the best dilemma of his entire fucking life.

            Louis moans obscenely around Harry’s cock, and Harry goes back inside of him with two fingers now, scissoring them so he can start to really open Louis’ up, but still fucking him with his tongue. Louis is torn between fucking back to Harry’s fingers or taking his dick into his mouth, and as labored as their breaths are, as sweaty as their bodies are, neither of them stops.

            There’s spit mixed with lube as Harry puts a third finger in, and by then Louis is incoherent, mouthing at Harry’s thigh instead of his dick, just whining and biting Harry’s hips as Harry fucks him fiercely with three fingers, his teeth grazing the cleft of Louis’ ass. Louis cries out a string of prayers that sound a lot like Harry’s name.

            “C’mon, Harry, want your dick in me _yesterday_ ”, Louis whines once again. “Hold me open, c’mon, H, spread my ass, see if I’m ready enough for you.”

            _So dirty in bed_ , Harry thinks as he does _exactly_ as Louis says. And damn is this boy ready to take him.

            Everything about Louis is mesmerizing, and Harry tells him so. Louis looks over his shoulder and gives Harry a smile. A soft smile. Amidst of it all, Louis is still _soft_. Harry isn’t much sure anymore if he can handle this boy.

            Louis sits up again and Harry smacks his ass _once_ , just to see the way his cheeks move, and Louis throws his head back beautifully.

            “Gonna ride me with your back to me, Lou?” Harry asks.

            “What’d’you want?” Louis asks back.

            “Want you looking at me when my dick goes in you”, he whispers. “If that’s okay.”

            Louis’ response is to turn around, legs trembling only a bit when he holds his body up again.

            Harry sits up and presses a kiss to Louis’ mouth – making good use of his flavored lube – and Louis kisses him back, full force. Harry can taste himself, Louis’ ass and synthetic strawberry in this kiss, and it’s perfect, nonetheless.

            They struggle only a bit to put the condom on, and then Louis lines up with Harry’s cock, and Harry, who is so, so desperate to just _fuck him_ already, still has the patience to rub the tip of his dick against Louis’ hole as he spread the lube on his length, teasing the both of them.

            Louis is who decides when the teasing is enough, because he huffs comically and just sinks down on Harry, quickly, his ass meeting Harry’s skin in a second. Then, Louis chokes.

            “Are you okay?” Harry manages to ask, even though there are at least a hundred moans stuck in his throat because _tighttightitghtfuckingTIGHT._

“You’re so big.” Louis takes a deep breath. “That was a miscalculation, but I’m okay.” He chuckles.

            Louis bends down and catches Harry’s lips into his own, as Harry kisses him slowly, caressing his back with the tip of his fingers to calm him down.

            Eventually, Louis relaxes and starts moving, and from then on, you can imagine all of the clichés people narrate of what a _perfect love making_ is like, put them all together, that this moment is still going to be _more_.

            Because it is. This moment is bigger than everything Harry has ever done and he knows he is throwing caution to the wind when he says:

            “You’re the best I’ve ever had, I swear to God.” He moans into Louis’ neck.

            Louis picks up his pace and doesn’t say anything, just places his hands on Harry’s chest for balance and starts bouncing up and down, secured by Harry’s hands on his waist and running on a newfound energy.

            He keeps this up for a long time, and _impressed_ doesn’t even begin to explain what he is feeling right now, but as he moves his hands to Louis’ ass and says, in a low voice, _let me really fuck you_ , Louis gives in to him with palpable ease. Harry holds him in the air by his ass cheeks, fucking him and biting his neck as Louis wails every time he hits his prostate.

            “Right there, so good, _ahhh so so good-uh-uh-uh_ ”, he moans in sync with Harry’s thrusts and Harry goes absolutely _mad_.

            He closes his eyes and chases his orgasm as he tries to do the same for Louis. He wants him to come only on his cock, he wants this to be possible for them. So he picks up his pace and doesn’t say anything anymore, revels in the feeling of their bodies working together, feels every drop of sweat that runs on their skins, and screams when his orgasm finally comes.

            Harry’s a mess, and he shudders all over as he spills inside the condom. Louis is also absolutely spent, and it takes Harry saying _your turn_ in his ear and riding his orgasm with slower thrusts into the boy for him to come too, whimpering and sweating and lovingly on top of Harry’s body. Louis is so, so lovely.

            _What did I get into?_

 

            “I might’ve neglected to tell you”, Louis voices as Harry gets up to throw the condom in the bin, “but you’re the best I’ve ever had too.”

            Harry laughs lightly and gets into bed again.

            “Good to know.” He says and turns on his side. “I didn’t know you bottomed.”

            “You’d already had your fingers in me.”

            “I mean—I didn’t know you bottomed _completely_.” He says and Louis laughs loudly, unabashedly. Louis pecks Harry’s lips just because.

            “I don’t- I had a bad experience bottoming a while ago.” Louis confesses. “But boy have I missed it.”

            “At your pleasure.” Harry smirks.

            “ _Pleasure_ indeed.” Louis says and scoots closer. “I’m glad you responded to my booty text.”

            “Me too.” Harry sighs. “I’ll be out of your hair in a couple of minutes, ‘m just recovering.”

            “It’s…” Louis turns around to grab his phone. “It’s four in the morning, and the rain hasn’t stopped.”

            “So…?”

            _Please say it, please say it, please say it_.

            “You could stay. That is, if you don’t mind.” 

            Harry beams. He doesn’t even try to hide it.

            “Yeah?” He asks just to be sure.

            “Yes.” Louis smiles back.

            “In that case…” He rolls over Louis’ body again. “Little spoon or big spoon?”

            “Who said I even _spoon_?” Louis asks, faking outrage. Harry cackles up a laugh.

            “If I’m staying, there will be cuddling.” Harry tells him definitively.

            “You’re insufferable. And I’m pretty sure you already have a _spoon_ decided.”

            “ _A spoon decided_ ”, Harry laughs loud again, “what’s wrong with you?” He kisses Louis cheeks and Louis slaps his shoulder.

            “Tell me Harold, which spoon are _you_?”

            “Little.” Harry doesn’t look into his eyes when he says it.

            “Of course you are.” Louis laughs. “Turn around then. ‘M getting sleepy.”

            Harry does as he’s told.

            “Play with my hair?” He asks, in a small voice. _God, Harry likes being held_.

            “What are you, ten?” Louis mocks him, but not even a second later Harry feels his fingers in his curls and a soft kiss between his shoulder blades.

 

            If Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face, nobody but himself needs to know.

 

-

 

            Harry wakes up pretty late for what he’s used to. When he grabs his phone to check the time he sees it’s almost eleven am, which explains why his stomach is complaining. He needs some food.

            He gets up slowly and avoids looking at Louis – he doesn’t want to be that creep that stares at someone for minutes on end in the morning, and he has the feeling that if he so much glances at Louis, he won’t be able to stop. Harry really needs to get a grip.

            When he gets to the kitchen, the door’s opening and model guy, also known as Zayn, Louis best mate is getting in. Harry would say he looks like hell, but, in all honesty, he doesn’t. Harry doesn’t know many people who can do the walk of shame and still look like they’re just getting out of the runaway.

            “Oh.” Zayn says when he sees Harry. “You’re… Harry, right?” He frowns.

            “Yeah, hi, good morning.”

            Zayn smiles and sighs at the same time.

            “Morning, mate.”

            “I was uh- just about to cook something? Like brunch?” Harry kind of asks.

            “Aaaand he cooks!” Zayn says it like a little prayer to heaven. They both chuckle. “Help yourself out, Harry. I’m gonna shower real quick and I’ll be back. You better make me some food as well.”

            “Will do.” Harry grins.

 

            Zayn is a nice guy, Harry decides. He comes back to the kitchen fifteen minutes later dressed in nothing but some shorts, and his hair’s still wet and—yeah, like Harry said: _model guy_. But then, while they’re talking, Louis comes walking from the room wearing only his pants, his bedhead and carrying his body like he always does, and Harry has his breath taken away.

            “You know, I was expecting head this morning, not tea club in the kitchen.” Louis complains, but Harry can see he’s joking.

            “Always so pleasant in the morning.” Zayn muses.

            “Shut up.” Louis shoves him. “How was your one night stand?”

            “Meh.” He complains. “Might go back to shagging girls for a while, these boys don’t really know what they’re doing anymore.”

            “ _I_ beg to differ”, Louis points out, “morning, Hazz”, he drops a kiss on his shoulder. “Sleep well?”

            “Yeah.” Harry chuckles and pecks Louis’ mouth. “You?”

            “Mhm-hm.” Louis replies. “What are you cooking me?”

            “Pancakes.”

            “Knew it’d be a good strategy to let you sleep here.” He laughs and sits on a stool.

            “Glad you got your head out of your ass.” Zayn tells his friend.

            “Don’t get all gooey on me, Zaynie. It doesn’t mean anything, it was just really late, raining and he’d given me a killer orgasm.” Louis mocks and Harry’s body stiffens. Luckily for him, he’s got his back to the boys, since he’s occupied with a frying pan at the moment, but… It stings.

            No, scratch that. It hurts.

            It shouldn’t. Louis said nothing but the truth. Still, Harry’s eyes are suddenly burning with a few tears trying to escape and… _What the fuck?_ This is _so_ not what they’re doing here.

            Harry coughs a bit and mumbles something about using the loo real quick, and when he gets there, he looks at his reflection in the mirror and tells him to get his shit together; he’s a big boy. Harry washes his face and goes back to the kitchen with something he tells himself is a smile on his face; he makes small conversation with Louis and his friend, and when Louis offers to wash the dishes he finds his cue to finally leave.

            “Okay”, Louis says, “see you round?” He asks with that hopeful tone that confuses the shit out of Harry.

            “Uh, actually I’m—I’m going to visit my family this week. Don’t know when I’m coming back, but I’ll let you know I guess.”

            “Oh. All right, then.” Louis’ face falls only for a second.

            “Bye, Louis.” He turns around and walks towards the hallway and Zayn follows him to close the door.

 

            “Hey, Harry.” Zayn calls.

            “Yeah.”

            “He’s too stubborn to recognize it now, but it does mean something.” He says.

            “Nah, mate, he’s right…” Harry sighs. “This is not what we’re doing.”

            Zayn laughs.

            “What?”

            “You trying to convince me or yourself?” He asks but doesn’t give Harry time to respond. “Look, mate, the last guy Louis dated was two years ago and hurt him in every possible way. He started bringing so many people around that I forbid him to have one night stands here, which is probably why this was the first time you were in our flat.”

            “Oh—I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I only came ‘cau—”

            “What I’m trying to explain, you idiot, is that ever since he started sleeping with you, _it’s only ever been you_. So I told him to invite you over, cause I knew he was dying to.” He chuckles. “Spent the whole concert being a menace.” Zayn chuckles.

            “I… Don’t know what to say?”

            “I’m just saying, Harry… You slept over. It means something. All right?”

            “All right.” Harry can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Zayn.” If anyone ever says he blushes, he will deny it to death.

            “See you soon, mate.”

            Harry answers something like _you too_ and goes home. He finds Liam on the couch watching bad TV and joins him for a lazy afternoon. Later, he calls his mom to let her know he’ll drive home the next day. He doesn’t talk to Louis. But it’s okay. He himself has some stuff to sort in his mind.

 

-

 

            Harry drives in the morning to Holmes Chapel and gets there right before lunch. Robin, his stepfather, is at work, but his mom is happily waiting for Harry at the door, hair up and apron on. Anne is the best mother in the world, and she is the reason why Harry thinks that, sometimes, the king is a woman.

            He gets out of the car with a goofy smile on his face, not being able to hide just how happy he is to be here, to know that she is cooking for him.

            “So glad to see you, my boy”, Anne says, kissing his cheek.

            “Happy to be home, mom. Missed you.”

            “You too, love, how are things over there? How’s Liam? Has he gone home too?” That’s her, a hundred questions per minute. “Did you pass everything this semester? Excited for the next?” She doesn’t wait for answers either. “I saw the get together your co-workers at the library threw you on facebook, they’re really nice, aren’t they?”

            “Mom, you do know that we’ll have time to chat, yeah?” He chuckles. “Lemme get some water.”

            “You haven’t been calling. I need to be updated on stuff, Harry.” His mother laughs, walking behind him and taking his backpack from his shoulders. “Actually, _why_ haven’t you been calling?”

            “I have been calling, mom.”

            “Not as much.” She eyes him suspiciously. Harry drinks water so as not to respond.

            “So, how are things _here_?” He asks her.

            “Same old, same old. Got some new flowers in the garden, though…”

            Anne fills him in on the latest _Cheshire_ _Gossips_ and Harry laughs loudly hearing stories from their neighborhood. Some things never really change, do they?

            Harry answers her questions the best he can, too, and he tries to remain unbothered by the fact that he still hasn’t heard one word from Louis. Granted, he could have reached out to him too, but he is still a bit confused and a lot insecure.

            To be honest, Harry’s confidence is something recently acquired; he only started building one in uni, he dares to say. He was an awkward kid and an even more awkward teenager, and only at seventeen/eighteen did he start actually caring about what he was wearing or how his hair was growing.

             Now he feels all right about himself. More than, even. But he’s still a bit weird in the feeling department, especially after Nick. That’s been a while, though, and he has moved on. He just doesn’t know if he moved on to the right person.

 

            “You still in there?” She asks.

            “Yeah, sorry…” He shakes his head and goes back to paying attention.

           

            Two days pass until Louis contacts him, and he’s fishing with Robin when it happens, so he doesn’t see it immediately. Later that night, when Harry goes to bed, he’s got five text messages from him and two misses calls. He sighs and ponders whether to call him back or not – it’s kind of late and it’s a week day, but then again, Louis is also on holiday so it’s not like he needs to be up early tomorrow.

            He calls him. Louis picks up less than a minute later.

            _“Hey.”_ His voice is soft on the other line, a bit uncertain too.

            “Hi.” Harry replies. “I wasn’t ignoring you, been out all day with my stepdad.”

            _“Oh, guess that’s good news then.”_  Louis sighs in relief. _“Look, I… Zayn might have pointed out I was a dick to you that day and I wanted to apologize.”_

Harry swallows thickly and decides he is going to play it cool.

            “That’s okay, Louis, you weren’t wrong. My staying over doesn’t change anything.”

            _“But it does. To me, it does_. _”_

            Well.

            “How so?”

            _“You’re the first person who stayed over in… A long time. There’s gotta be a reason for that, yeah?”_ He chuckles.

            “Not really.”

            _“Harry.”_ Louis whines and they both laugh. _“Help me out here.”_

“I can’t, Lou. Really, I can’t.” He rushes to say before Louis says anything else. “That’s something you gotta sort through yourself.”

            _“I’m shit at this.”_

“No joking!”

            _“Twat.”_ Louis says fondly. _“How’re things over your mom’s? Is everyone okay?”_

            “Y-yeah, I missed them. But I’m going a bit crazy. Guess once we leave home it’s weird to go back to being surrounded by parents twenty for seven” Harry tells him and turns on his side.

            _“It is. I feel completely overwhelmed when I go home. Been avoiding it for a while, but I miss my girls.”_

“I bet you do. It is nice having Gemma so close to me. We’re really good friends. You remind me a lot of her, actually.”

            _“How so?”_

            “Small, feisty, beautiful.” Harry really needs a brain-to-mouth filter.

            _“Hey Hazz?”_ Louis asks and Harry hums in acknowledgement. _“How surrounded by parents are you at the moment?”_ There is mischief in his voice.

            “’M in my room”, he answers, “think mom and Robin went to sleep too, it’s late. Why, Louis?” But Harry already knows the answer.

           

            It isn’t the first time Harry wanks furiously in this bed, but it definitely is the best. Louis is going to be death of him. But man, what a way to go.

 

            He doesn’t want to admit, but the next morning he is much happier than he’d been the other days, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

            “When are you going to tell me about the new boy you met?” His mother asks over waffles. Harry drops his fork.

            “What?” He frowns.

            “You’ve been calling less and were sulking when you got home, this morning you’re happier than ever… Did you guys make up?”

            “What makes you think this is all because of a _boy_? There are a thousand other reasons why I could be calling less, sulking, and feeling happy, I’ll have you know.”

            “Is there any other reason then?” Anne raises an eyebrow.

            “No.” He blushes.

            “You came from _me_. I know you. Now spill.” She jokes.

            “His name’s Louis. We met at a club of all places”, Harry chuckles, remembering the first time he ever saw Louis. It’s been five months. Time flies.

            “Love at first sight?”

            See? No one can blame Harry for being a romantic. Look who raised him!

            “Definitely not.” He laughs and drinks more orange juice.

            “How many dates have you been to, then?”

            “None.” Harry tells her and she frowns. “We have uh- this kind of friends with benefits deal going on?” To his mother’s credit, she doesn’t look baffled at all. Gemma reacted a lot worse when he told her, smacking him on the head. “Except… I really like him.”

            “Course you do.” Anne smiles. “We are not cut out for this kind of thing, Harry.”

            “But Louis is, I think. And we’re… We’ve actually become friends, I like to believe. And there are, uh- benefits. But…”

            “You want more.”

            “Maybe.” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

            “Are the benefits, uh, really beneficial at least?”

            “Mom!”

            “Well, you are telling me, so I have the right to ask!”

            “No, you don’t. As a mother, you should be lecturing me about how immoral what I’m doing is and… Yeah, something like that.”

            “Harold. You had sex with your first boyfriend in that very same room upstairs when you were sixteen and I was in the living room watching a culinary show. If I were to lecture you on what’s moral or not I’d say I’m a bit late, wouldn’t you?” She laughs. And Harry’s as red as a tomato.

            He knocks his forehead on the kitchen table.

            “You knew about that?” He groans.

            “It was pretty traumatic for me, as a mother.”

            “Well, it was pretty traumatic to have to listen to you and Robin when I lived here too.” He doesn’t look up.           

            “That’s where I draw the line.” Anne warns and throws a piece of bread at his face playfully. “Wanna tell me more about Louis?”

            “No.” Harry finally looks up. “I feel like if I talk about him to you it’ll mean more than it should at this stage. And I… Am being careful. Liam told me to be careful.”

            “Liam’s a smart boy.” She agrees.

            They start talking about Liam then and their adventures at the flat.

            When Harry first moved out, officially into a flat and not just the school dorm, he didn’t think he’d be able to do anything by himself. Although he’d been used to cooking since he already liked it a lot as a teenager, he didn’t know if he were ready for all of the household chores living alone entitled. He and Liam were a right disaster. They still are. But at least they have laundry figured out now.

 

            Harry decides to go back home on Friday, and he will never admit that it’s because there’s a slight chance Louis will want to go clubbing with him – that is, if Harry musters the power to ask him in the first place.

            He texts him when he gets home, just a simple “letting you know I’m back in town”.

            **_You can come over if you’re not too tired_**. The reply comes quickly.

            Harry is definitely not too tired to see him.

            Liam doesn’t say anything this time, just asks him if he’s gonna stay over in case his now girlfriend comes here and they decide to fuck on the sofa.

            “ _Why_ would you say something like that? Ew!” Harry says, almost at the door.

            “As _if_ you haven’t fucked Louis here.” Liam rolls his eyes.

            “Yeah, but Louis is not a girl.”

            “So the idea of a naked girl on this couch makes you more disgusted than the idea of a naked _me_ on this couch?” His friends checks.

            “Both are quite disturbing.” Harry ponders. “But at least you have a penis.”

            “Get outta here.” Liam throws a pillow at him.

            “I love you, Limaaaa.” He says and closes the door. Liam says something like _Louis is ruining you_ and Harry can’t do nothing but agree with him.

           

            He takes the underground this time, because it isn’t really late and he does intend to spend the night; he hopes Louis doesn’t mind.

            When he gets there, Zayn’s the one to open the door for him, and he finds Louis on the couch covered by a bunch of blankets and watching what really looks like _Keeping Up With The Kardashians_.

            “He is sick, but he doesn’t want to admit it.” Zayn warns Harry as he gets in.

            “You’re sick?” Harry frowns.

            “Am not.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Just a bit indisposed. Nothing that you can’t fix.”

            Zayn huffs and throws his body on the couch again. Harry knees before Louis and studies him for a while. He’s covered from head to toe and it’s really hot outside. Harry places a hand on his face and leans in to kiss him. Louis is burning.

            “You’re burning.” Harry tells him.

            “Thank you.” Zayn says.

            “Am not.”

            “Stop being stubborn.” His friend replies angrily.

            “Have you eaten anything today?” Harry asks.

            “Zayn made us something terrible for lunch, but that was it.”

            “Okay.” Harry kisses his forehead and gets up. “Chicken soup all right?”

            “What?”

            “’M gonna cook you dinner, you need proper food. Zayn, come help me.” Harry asks him and then leans down to kiss Louis one more time. “You should take a shower.” He tells Louis.

            “Good idea, come shower with me.” Louis cheers up.

            “As much as I love the idea of you choking on my dick, I’d rather it not be because you’re falling asleep, thank you very much.” Harry chuckles. “C’mon, Lou. You’ll feel better after you shower.”

            Louis gets up and mumbles something about him and Zayn being two old ladies, but goes towards the bathroom anyways.

            “Unbelievable, he listens to you more than to me.” Zayn fake-complains.

            “I’m just the new guy around.” Harry dismisses, but once again feels warm on the inside.

            Zayn’s a pretty decent helper, and together they manage to cook Louis something edible in less than an hour. Harry makes small talk with him, throughout the process of cooking, and he actually learns a lot about him and Louis.

            Unlike himself and Niall, who met here in Oxford, Louis and Zayn have been friends since they were children, and brought Niall into their gang on the first year of uni. They’re inseparable and the only reason Niall doesn’t live with them is because he plays so much music, so loud, all of the time, that he needs to live with someone equally crazy as him.

            Zayn suggests that they all go out together when Louis gets better, and Harry finds himself hopeful, entertaining the idea of hanging out with Louis _outside_ ; even if it won’t be a date _date_ , it will be something. Harry’s grin threatens to split his face when Louis agrees to it, saying _maybe next weekend, Ed will be playing_.

 

            They all eat together in the living room, and then Zayn excuses himself to his room, saying that not all of them are on Summer holidays. Zayn graduated a semester before Louis and works as a curator assistant at a museum nearby – it’s a pretty dope job if you ask Harry.

            Harry goes to the kitchen to wash the dishes despite Louis’ protests, and the boy ends up following him, sitting on the counter by the sink and waiting for Harry to finish. It’s silent, the only noise coming from the tap as Harry cleans everything. Louis just watches him. Harry pretends he doesn’t see the boy’s eyes following his every move, but he does.

            When he finally catches him staring for too long, Louis clears his throat.

            “I, uh- spoke to Perrie this week, about the internship thing I was telling you about?” Louis starts up a conversation.

            “Yeah?” Harry smiles in return.

            “Yes. I gave her your number, she said she’d call to interview you before August.”

            “You for real?”

            “Yes, Harold.”

            “You’re amazing.” Harry hugs him. “Thank you.” He breathes into Louis’ neck and deposits a soft kiss there.

            “It was nothing.” Louis caresses his curls back and then yawns. “Sorry.”

            “No, no, c’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Harry says in a low voice, his grin turning into a soft, close mouthed smile.

            “I’d love to hear those words were we in another context.” Louis whines and lets Harry carry him bridal style. “’M sorry I lured you into coming here knowing I wouldn’t be able to do anything, really.”

            “Nonsense”, Harry places him on the bed and sits by his side. “I got to cook for you, and convinced you to shower. You ate everything and we talked. We did plenty.” He says brushing Louis’ fringe out of his forehead. “Tonight we explored the _friends_ part, right?”

            Louis doesn’t look at him when he nods, but when he looks up, there’s a small smile playing on his face.

            “Can I bore you into watching a movie with me, too?” He then asks.

            “It’s not boring to watch a movie, Lou. Definitely not with you.” Harry huffs out a laugh and takes off his shoes, grabbing Louis’ laptop from his desk. “I get the feeling you’re going to make funny comments throughout the whole movie, whichever movie we choose.”

            “You’re right.” Louis agrees with him. “I’m so funny and charming.”

 _Yes, you are_.

            Harry lies by his side; they’re both on their bellies, faces too close to the screen.

            Under Harry’s protest, they watch a scary movie. But it’s okay, Louis holds his hand. At the end of it, Louis says he’s feeling a bit better, but Harry gets him some medicine anyways and makes him drink more water.

            A blush appears on Louis’ face when he asks Harry to stay the night, and it gets even deeper when he asks if it’s okay if he’s the little spoon, only for tonight. Harry complies, of course he does. He dresses down to his pants and turns off the lights, getting into bed again and hugging Louis from behind.

            His mind’s working a thousand miles per hour.

            “I think…” Harry gathers enough courage to say. “I think we’re blurring the lines a bit here, Lou.”

            Louis makes a noise in acknowledgement and just entwines his fingers with Harry’s on his belly.

            “Maybe I need to get ready for complicated.” He breathes out. It’s so low Harry almost doesn’t hear it.

            “It doesn’t have to be complicated.” Harry offers, dropping a kiss to his shoulder.

            “Let’s see.” Louis says.

            Last thing Harry hears before drifting off to sleep is a _night, Hazz, thanks for everything_. He isn’t sure he responds with words, but he tightens his grip around his boy’s body, feeling his heart fasten in his chest.

 

            It does get complicated. Harry doesn’t realize it at first, and he wonders if he should have. But what happens is that a week later they are all at some pub downtown where Louis’ friend, Ed, is performing. Niall and Zayn join them, and Harry appears alone because Liam is running late and, apart from him, Harry doesn’t have other friends he’d like to introduce to Louis, not if he’s counting his sister, which—Louis would probably be against at this point of their… Agreement.

            Niall acts as if he’s known Harry his entire life, hugging him and buying him pints, saying that they are going to be great friends. He’s a right laugh and he worships the ground Louis walks on, but Harry isn’t surprised at all. If there is one thing that hey has noticed is that Louis is always the center of attention, even if most of the time he doesn’t realize it. People just seem drawn to him, and Harry feels slightly better to know that he isn’t the only one, although he’s definitely… Different from Louis’ other friends.

            “Hey, mate, is that your friend?” Zayn asks as he sees Liam entering the room. Liam seems lost, looking around to see if he finds Harry.

            “Yep.” Harry says and raises his hand, but Niall whistles loudly and every head turns towards them.

            Liam makes his way through them quickly, and apologizes before saying _hello_ to everyone. The way Zayn eyes him from head to toe and then again makes _Harry_ blush.

            “Li, these are Niall and Zayn. Louis is somewhere backstage with Ed.” Harry says.

            “Hi, nice to meet you.” Liam, always very polite, shakes both of the boy’s hands, then proceeds to apologize again for being late.

            “It’s all right, someone with your face can get away with it.” Zayn lets him know.

            “Thought we were done with boys for a while, Zaynie?” Louis says coming behind him and laughing. “Hi, Payno.”

            “He does know it’s _Payne_ , right?” Liam turns to Harry.

            “In the ass.” Louis completes and Harry spits his beer into the mug again, making a fool of himself.

            “I told you not to try with him.” Harry says.

            “Good evening, Lewis.” Liam finally says. “And why are you done with boys, Zayn, is it?” He turns to Zayn.

            “He keeps complaining guys these days don’t know what they’re doing in bed”, Louis explains, sitting by Harry’s side. “Not for the first time, I beg to differ.” Louis looks at Harry and Harry can’t help but kiss him in front of everyone.

            Louis receives the kiss, but seems like he wants to dodge it. Harry’s not sure; he just got a weird vibe.

            “It’s true, okay?” Zayn says. “Unless I’m doing all the work, they’re just—I don’t know.”

            “’S why I stick to the ladies.” Niall says with a smile on his face. “They’re awesome. Women are awesome.”

            “You’ve snogged men, Niall.” Louis rolls his eyes.

            “But I haven’t slept with them.” He points out.

            “So teach them.” Liam says to Zayn out of the blue and everyone looks at him.

            “Wouldn’t you like to learn?” Zayn muses and Liam goes red.

            “No, I’m very much straight and with a girlfriend. I’m _flattered_ , really, you’re gorgeous… And I live with Harry, so I have experience with male beauty.”

            “Thank you, my love.” Harry rests his head on Liam’s shoulder.

            “… What I’m saying _is_ ”, Liam continues, “you can’t expect a person to know everything you like in bed, or to _know_ everything you do.” At this point Harry places a hand on Louis’ thigh and gives it a light squeeze. Louis smiles.

            “He’s got a point, you know.” Niall says.

            “I don’t know, mate…” Louis trails. “Some people just know.” He shrugs.

            “Smooth, Tommo.” Zayn jokes.

            “You can also join us for a threesome if you’re so desperate for good sex, love. We’re great.” He winks.

            “Never sleeping with you again, you have crazy stamina. And you’re loud.” Zayn says.

            “Don’t see how that’s bad…” Harry muses.             “Wait. _Again?_ ” He looks at Louis, eyes widened. Niall cackles up a laugh.

            “We slept together when we were, what? Eighteen? No, twenty!” Louis looks at Zayn. “We were still in uni, thought we should be in love because we were both very good friends and into dudes.” He laughs.

            Harry shouldn’t be jealous of Zayn, he shouldn’t be jealous _at all_ , but somehow he can’t seem to _laugh_.

            “They decided on this ‘friends with benefits’ type of deal… Not that those ever work, but it somehow worked for them.” Niall starts to tell the story. Liam looks at Harry worryingly. “Then they simply became an item.”

            Harry doesn’t notice that his hand tightens on Louis thighs, but Louis does, because he places his hand on Harry’s and removes it.

            “It lasted for some beautiful months…” Zayn says. “Then Louis fucked somebody else and told me… And I found a girl whom I liked at the time and- yeah.”

            “The girl in question is Perrie.” Louis completes. “They dated for one year and a half.” Pause. “Here’s to our stupidity!” He raises his pint.

            “Here’s to _not_ having a threesome with you and Harry.” Zayn looks at him pointedly. “No offense, mate.”

            “None taken.” Harry says and coughs to hide the roughness in his voice.

            “You all right?” Liam asks lowly. Harry nods. “Still have this under control?”

            “I’m fine, Liam.” He responds and downs the rest of his beer, getting up to get the next round.

 

            Ed is a great musician. He gets the crowd going and Harry really is interested in his music, wants to get to know him better. He sometimes likes to play the guitar and sing, so it’d be nice to talk to a real musician.

            It would be easier, so much easier for Harry to pay some real attention to the lyrics, though, if Louis weren’t attached to his front rubbing his ass on Harry’s crotch to the rhythm of the songs. He’s just too much, the whole time, and Liam keeps giving Harry those furtive looks as if to say _be careful_ and _your hard on is showing_ , and Harry honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself.

            Because for every time Harry thinks Louis might be just beginning to reciprocate his… _Feelings_ , there are times in which the older boy is just so nonchalant towards what they have that it leaves Harry truly confused.

            Today is another step forwards, he thinks at first. But he’s wrong.

            Louis excuses himself in the middle of Ed’s set to go to the restroom, and Niall follows him with a determined look on his face. Harry finds it weird, but doesn’t make much of it.

            It takes them a long time. Harry gets impatient because Ed has just finished his set and is coming towards them, and Niall and Louis are still not back. He meets Ed and congratulates him, says his music is sick, and then when Ed asks where Louis and Niall are, Zayn is the one who answers.

            “They left two and a half songs ago and haven’t come back yet.”

            “They’re not backstage.” Ed replies.

            “Lou said something ‘bout going to the restroom… Lemme look there.” Harry says and starts making his way through the crowd.

 

            There are a lot more people in the pub now, but somehow Harry manages to get to the restroom and, better – or worse – than that, he manages to hear exactly what Niall and Louis have, apparently, been arguing about this whole time.

 

            “—this time it’s not gonna work, Lou.”

            “It is. I’m not _asking_ him to give me affection, Niall, he does it because he wants to. If he wants to shag somebody else, then he can go and shag somebody else because guess what? I DON’T CARE!” He screams at his friend.

            “You know wha—” Niall begins, but Harry makes his presence noticeable.

            “Uh, just wanted to let you that Ed’s finished his set and asked for you guys.” Harry just said.

            “Harold, please tell him we have a very healthy deal.” Louis says, completely unaware of how shattered Harry really is.

            Harry snorts.

            “ _You_ are unbelievable.” Harry whispers, but Louis can make out his words, he’s sure.

            “What have I done now, Harry?” Louis asks. Niall smacks him on the head and walks out of the restroom. _“WHAT?”_

            “I’m gonna go home.”

            “We—”

            “You can find someone else to shag tonight.” And then he’s out of the restroom.

           

            Harry stops by their table to let them know he’s going home, and when Louis comes walking behind him he does his best not to look at him again. Liam collects his things and tells Harry they’re gonna hail a cab, since they’re both too drunk to drive, and then Harry doesn’t really know anymore.

            He knows he gets home and sits on the couch and that Liam hugs him. He knows Zayn calls twice and that he’s eating ice cream, and that eating ice cream is more important than talking to Zayn. He knows that his flatmate doesn’t leave his side until he finishes eating, and then puts him under the shower.

            He knows he’s just realized he’s in love with Louis Tomlinson. But he doesn’t know what to do with it. Because, you see, maybe he isn’t ready for complicated either.

 

-

           

            Day one: **_you knew what you’re getting yourself into._**

Day two: **_why are you mad at me for saying the truth?_**

Day three: **_it isn’t very mature to ignore me, ya know?_**

Day four: **_Harry, don’t ruin our thing._**

 

            Louis very rarely uses punctuation, so Harry knows he must be really trying to get to him. But here’s the thing: Harry isn’t ready to face him. Even four days later, he isn’t ready to look into Louis’ face without showing him exactly how he feels.

            It’s been almost five months. Five months of apparently _meaningless_ fucks to Louis; five months of getting to know each other – even if not consciously. Five months of Harry letting himself fall, once again, for a boy who didn’t really want him, only this time it wasn’t even Louis fault.

            Louis is right. Harry _did_ know what he was getting himself into, so why the hell is he so, so sad?          

            Liam keeps telling him people can’t control their feelings. Harry hates the fact that Liam is right, but then decides to make use of it and sulk in his sadness for one week. Only one. Then, on Saturday, Harry decides that if there is one thing he has control over is his actions.

 

            “Help me pull tonight.” Harry calls Jeff.

            Jeff is his good friend from uni. Not Liam-good, but good nonetheless. Easier. Liam won’t approve of his methods anyways.

            _“Weren’t you the one with a very satisfying sex life?”_ His classmate laughs on the other line.

            A couple of weeks ago they were having this conversation over beers. Harry remembers when they tried to make Harry hook up with a guy and he told them he didn’t need to.

            The truth was, he didn’t _want_ to either. Look where it got him.

            _He can shag somebody else. I don’t care_. The words still ring in his ear. Fuck. Harry hates Louis. Except he doesn’t.

            (It’s funny if you think that years from now Harry will still remember these words and throw them back at Louis playfully, as in “remember that time when…?” and that Louis will only glare at him and implore, _for the thousandth time, Harold_ not to mention this terrible, terrible incident. Louis will tell their friends that he had hit his head that day. He, in this case, _Harry_. Because Louis would _never_ say something like that to or about his husband.)

 

            “Things change” Harry responds finally. “We going out or not?”

            _“Yeah, Styles.”_

 

            Harry pulls tonight. And then, because he’s extra drunk and extra petty, he takes snapchat with the guy and captions it with “ _fuck you…… only not really you”_ , sending to Louis without thinking twice; without thinking at all .

            The guy’s name is “Matthew, but call me Matt”. He is a poorer version of Louis, in looks and in bed. Harry doesn’t fuck him neither does he let himself be fucked. He gets an _okay_ blow job and then gets the guy off, and leaves his place without promising to see him again.

            Harry wakes up with two calls from Louis and a drunk text: **_it1s nor like I muss u either_**. It doesn’t hurt.

 

            So on Saturday Harry pulls again. Because he’s feeling like it.

            Greg.

            Greg doesn’t look like Louis, and he is a great dancer. Their bodies fit on the dance floor and Harry sways his hips with the man, fitting his bum right on his crotch. Greg seems to have a great dick. At least it feels like it. He feels the man’s mouth on his neck and exposes it for better access. Greg kisses him right behind the ear. Harry turns around. _That’s was Louis’ favorite spot to kiss me_.

            They’re dancing like this now, facing each other, but Harry doesn’t want to prolong this anymore, so leans in and asks Greg if he wants to come back to his. Harry also sends a little prayer to the havens asking if Liam could _please_ be sleeping at Sophia’s (his girlfriend) place tonight.

 

            They kiss inside the cab and it feels good; Harry feels free. Greg knows how to pull his hair and bite his neck without leaving a mark – something that Louis could never for the life of him… But maybe _marking_ was his intention all along, go figure.

            Anyways, _Greg._ Greg’s good with his hands. He’s got one on Harry’s thigh and one on his nape as he fiercely fucks his tongue into Harry’s mouth, and Harry reciprocates the best he can, grabbing his biceps and gripping on his waist, pulling him closer, closer, closer till he’s almost straddling Harry’s body in the backseat of a taxi.    

            And then they arrive.

            (What happens next changes the course of everything. But it will only start changing in a few days. Tonight it just really pisses Harry off.)

            They pay the cab and Greg gives the driver a generous tip, apologizing for the inconvenience. They get out of the car in front of Harry’s building and… There is Louis. There is a _drunk_ Louis, smoking a cigarette, resting against the wall. Oh, this is not going to be good.

            Harry doesn’t even have time to decide to ignore him, because he starts talking as soon as he notices Harry’s presence.

            “Replaced me already, Harold?” He slurs from his spot.

            “Who is he?” Greg whispers, still a bit drunk.

            “A previous _shag_ ”, Harry answers and Louis squints his eyes at him. “Your words, not mine.” He lets him know.

            “And you won’t let me apologize… Why?” Louis asks, walking closer. Greg shifts uncomfortably by Harry’s side. Of course he does, they’re both hard. Damn. “You haven’t replied to _one_ text.”

            “This might come as news to you, Louis, but I don’t have to be there every time you want me to. Especially after you made it pretty clear what our _arrangement_ was.”

            “You’re not like this.” Louis states boldly.

            “Well, it’s not like you _asked_ for my affection, is it?” Harry snorts. “Get lost.”

            “I—” But he doesn’t know what to say back. “Have a nice fuck, Harry.” Louis looks him in the eyes, and then turns to Greg. “Congrats on landing him, he’s really good in bed.” And then walks away for good. Harry thinks he saw tears in Louis’ eyes, but it’s too fast for him to be sure.          

            He’s left intrigued, and with another problem to solve.

            “I’m sorry about that.” He sighs, looking at Greg. “D’you still want to come up?”

            “D’you still want me to come up?”

            Harry doesn’t answer.

            “You know what, I’ll just—”

            “I do.” Harry cuts him off. “I do want you to come up.” He smiles.

 

            Greg fucks him good, like Harry had a feeling he would. He doesn’t ask questions about Louis – not before, not in between rounds and not after. It’s almost four am when he says he’s going to leave. Harry offers for him to stay, but Greg declines, offering Harry a smile.

            “If I give you my number, will you ever call?” He asks.

            “I don’t know.” Harry answers truthfully, but Greg writes something down on a post-it on Harry’s desk. “Okay…”

            “You’re not obligated to. But I’d like to see you again, if you’re available.”

            “All right.” Harry gives him a smile.

 

-

 

            On Monday, Harry gets a call from Perrie Edwards, from the LGBTQ+ switchboard office based in Oxford. She asks if he’s available for an interview the next morning and _yes_ , he most certainly is.

 

            The next morning he’s nervous, and Liam doesn’t do much to help with his nerves. A part of him thinks that Louis would know exactly what to say, especially because he _knows_ Perrie, and he was the one to give her Harry’s contact in the first place. He hates the fact that he owes him this.

            Harry’s mind is everywhere but where it should be. He isn’t someone who knows how to multitask very well, and even though both his mom and Gemma told him things were going to be okay, he doesn’t know how he can focus on convincing Perrie he’s good for this internship when his personal life’s still a mess.

           

            “Good morning, Harry.” The blonde woman receives him with a large smile on her face, and he feels a bit at ease then.

            Perrie explains to him what they do here, and how connected they are with the other offices. She tells him that what they need now is someone to help her make the connections between the donated money and where to apply it. They promote lectures and events in which everyone feels safe and accepted, so they are always in need of a hand for organizing that too.

            Harry is excited. He doesn’t have experience with it, not at all, he’s only ever worked at a bakery and a library, for Christ’s sake; but he also tells her that he’s a good person, a quick learner and that he wants to work here very, very much.

            “Louis said you were enthusiastic…” She chuckles.

            “He did? When?” He widens his eyes. “Sorry.”

            “When he gave me your number. Lately he’s only been snappy.” Perrie tells him. “Anyways, Harry, I think we’ve talked everything we needed to, don’t you? I’m gonna talk to my superiors this week, but you should feel pretty great about today.”

            “Thank you, honestly.” He smiles big, already getting up. “Thanks.”

            “I’m glad Lou told me ‘bout you. Saved me from interviewing lots of bad people.” She says and gets up too, walking towards the door to her office.

            “I’m… Really glad he did it too.”

            “Maybe call him and tell him the good news then?” She smiles. Harry doesn’t answer. “Oh.”

            “Because you aren’t my boss yet and this interview is already over: Louis and I aren’t actually in speaking terms right now.” He says.

            “Oh, fuck.” She sighs. “This is his friend talking, not your future boss, I’m allowed to curse.” She warns him.

            “Okay.” Harry laughs lightly.

            “He probably fucked up, said something really stupid, right?”

            “Kinda.”

            “Here’s Louis 101 for you: that’s what he does. He pushes away if anyone gets too close. But Niall told me he really likes you, so maybe… Maybe don’t let him push you away first time he tries, yeah?” Perrie puts a comforting hand on his arm and Harry says he’ll think about it.     

 

-

 

            Saturday finds Harry at restaurant waiting for Greg to show up. He apologizes, blames his five-minute delay on the cabby who didn’t know the way, and they share a good meal. Harry doesn’t care much, his mind isn’t really here, hasn’t been since he talked to Perrie, but, by then, he’d already said yes to this, since he’d texted Greg on Monday night.

            Anyways, here they are. Greg tells him some things about himself and asks Harry a bunch of first-date questions about him. He knows what he’s doing – he’s a good man, has a nice life, apparently. Still, Harry finds himself drifting away from this very table.

            When they ask for the check, Harry insists on at least splitting it, and when they go outside, Greg says he won’t be taking Harry home today.

            “I told you to only call me if you were available, Harry.” He explains.

            “But I am?”

            “Not emotionally, you’re not. And that’s fine.” Greg chuckles. “It was nice meeting you anyways.”

            Harry sighs. He knows Greg is right, so he bids him goodbye and gets into a different taxi.

            It’s time he talks to Louis anyways.

 

-

 

            Harry’s been waiting for over thirty minutes on Louis’ doorstep when he arrives there, looking tired but sober, and his eyes widen at the exact second he sees Harry, as if him being here were the last thing Louis was expecting.

            Louis unlocks the door to his flat and steps in, looking back waiting for Harry to do the same. Harry pockets his phone and walks in too. The flat is a mess, but there is no news there.

            “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Louis asks with a smirk on his face.

            “No.” Harry answers seriously. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to act like I’m wrong here.”

            “I’m not _acting_ like anything, Harry. I’m asking what the fuck you are doing here after weeks of zero contact.” Louis sits down on the couch.

            “I’m coming from a date.”

            “Good for you.” He’s quick to answer.

            “What were you doing drunk out of your mind at my building last week, Louis?”

            “I don’t know. I was clearly delusional to think you’d want to talk to me anyways, wasn’t I?” Louis asks, being defensive.

            “I’m here now, aren’t I?” Harry sits by his side and Louis shrugs. “I had a great date. With the same guy I was with that night. Greg. He’s nice.”

            “Are you just gonna rub it in my face or…?”

            “You said you didn’t _care_ , Louis.” Harry lets out.

            “OF COURSE I BLOODY CARE, HARRY.” He answers exasperatedly. “This might come as _actual_ news to you, but I run like hell when something good comes my way. Nothing gold ever stays, okay? And you’re—you’re all shiny and stuff.”

            “Shiny and stuff.” Harry chuckles. “Eloquent.”

            “Shut up.” He warns. “You’re—you’re gold.” Louis doesn’t look at Harry when he says that. Harry feels a butterfly do a backflip in his stomach. “Niall saw what was happening and wanted to have a word with me, to tell me not to screw up.” They both laugh at the irony. “Instead of listening to him I just—lost it, ok? And it _kills_ me that you slept _and_ went on a date with _Greg_ , cause I didn’t get to do one of those things with you.”

            They never went on a date. (And this is so funny, because from now on they’ll go on so many dates that they’ll have to start going online to get some fun ideas.)

            “Because you didn’t want to.” Harry finally says.

            “Because I don’t know _how to_.” Louis explains.

            “Greg doesn’t want to see me anymore. Apparently I’m not emotionally available.” Harry tells him. “And then thing is, Lou- I didn’t want to ruin our agreement, like you said I did, ok? I was fine with what we had, I… I settled for it around the second month, I think, because I liked you too much already, even though I told Liam that I didn’t.”

            “But I just… I was carried away. And I’m sorry. This is where I’m at right now. I’m at the complicated phase. And when you said you needed to get ready for complicated I thought we were heading on the same direction, but if we’re not—if you don’t want that, then just let me down easy, yeah? Don’t go screaming at your best friend in restrooms that I might catch you. ‘Cause my skin isn’t as thick as it may seem.”

            Harry holds his head high. This is who he is. This is how he feels. _This is where he’s at right now_. He hopes, _oh he so hopes_ Louis will meet him halfway. But if he doesn’t, then he’ll walk away.

            _Please meet me halfway_.

            Louis surges forwards and kisses him. And Harry—well, Harry melts into it.

            “I’m no good at relationships.” Louis confesses into his mouth. “But you’re good for me. So, so good.” Harry hides his face in the crook of Louis’ neck, breathing deeply. “Don’t let me go.” The other man asks.

            “I can’t do friends with benefits, Lou.” Harry whispers.

            “No, I—” Louis makes Harry look at him again. “That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is… You’re gonna have to teach me lots of things, H.”

            “Lesson one, then.” Harry takes a deep breath. “Kiss me.”

            Louis does.

            The difference, this time, is that Harry lets himself feel everything he didn’t allow the last time. He savors the feeling of being with someone he cares so deeply about, and lets the waves of happiness hit him with each swipe of Louis’ tongue.

            Louis straddles him on the couch and connects their bodies until there is no space between them.

            Harry hugs him tight, and Louis chuckles into the kiss, pulling away for a bit to kiss Harry’s entire face.

            “Missed you.” Louis voices. “It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I missed you.”

            “I missed you too.” Harry doesn’t miss a beat when he answers.

            “I’m sorry.” The other boy mumbles. “Again.” He says as he plays with a strand of Harry’s hair.

            “That’s all right, Lou. We had some stuff to figure out anyways. I’d been lying to myself too, so…” Harry trails.

            “How so?”

            “Liam said I was going to fall for you. I said I wouldn’t, and then I…”

            “You…” Louis pushes.

            “You’re not gonna make me say it.” Harry squints his eyes and then laughs.

            “Why not?” He pouts.

            “Because.” Harry pecks Louis’ mouth.

            “Because I might run on the opposite direction? Say I was kidding and you are, indeed, just a mind-blowing shag?” Louis tries. “Because I’m an idiot who doesn’t deserve you?”

            He punctuates each sentence with a kiss to Harry’s lips, as if he’s being playful in order to hide his fear.

            “None of the above.” Harry says. “’M just—not ready to say it. Okay?”

            Louis sighs and nods. He kisses Harry again and Harry lets himself be kissed, tilting his head and feeling his whole body relax as Louis caresses his scalp with the tips of his fingers. Everything is so soft.

 

            It’s almost one am when they make it to the bedroom, both too emotionally drained for anything more than a good snog before falling asleep. Louis hugs Harry from behind and says they’ll talk more in the morning, but he expects food. Harry laughs quietly and promises breakfast in bed. He’s really, really happy, although still a bit disbelieving.

            Louis kisses his temple and says _goodnight, Hazz_. Harry mumbles goodnight back, and falls asleep with Louis breathing softly into his neck.

 

-

 

            “Two years ago I had this boyfriend.” Louis says as soon as Harry opens his eyes. “I think I loved him, I really do. And to some degree, he loved me too.”

            Harry simply nods, waiting for him to continue.

            “I am very much a cliché, I mean… I was a lovesick fool when I met him. Thought about marriage, kids, the whole shenanigan for the longest time… I remember when I turned eighteen I told mom I was ready for all of it, but she laughed. I still think I was.” Louis chuckles and Harry raises his hand on the bed to stroke Louis’ cheek softly.

            “I met my ex-boyfriend at a concert. We connected instantly, because we had a favorite song in common. Zayn liked him, so it was a good sign. When your best friend likes the person you’re dating, it usually means it’s gonna work. It worked for over a year… Until the drinking started. He had some problems with his parents, they never accepted him and at the beginning I thought _ok_ , _he needs an escape_.”

            “But eventually, it got out of control. ‘M gonna spare you the details, but—it clearly wasn’t working. Last time we had sex he- hurt me like hell, and I remember having to go to the doctor to check if I was okay, which was… Embarrassing, to say the least.”

            “Louis…” Harry whispers.

            “I’ve only ever bottomed for you after that.” Louis confesses. “And it was so, _so_ perfect Harry. It’s never been this perfect for me before. Even when I thought it was really good, it wasn’t like what we did. And we only, like, _fucked?_ I can’t even imagine what it’ll be like now, when we’re aware that it means... More.” He smiles.

            “Babe…” Harry scoots closer, Louis hugs him. “You are perfect. I’m sorry you went through it.”

            “On top of it all, I found out he cheated on me with two or three coworkers, people whom I knew. It was horrible. I became properly emotionally stunted since then. Hence me being a dick to you.” Louis looks up. “But I’m done running, okay? Being scared with you is better than being sad _without_ you. I don’t wanna be without you, H.”

            “You won’t. Ok? You won’t.” Harry kisses him on the cheek, nose, and then mouth. “I promise you I’m gonna treat you better than he did.” He says and Louis nods, a small smile appearing on his face again. “And… Not now, because now I’m going to get up and make you breakfast, but…  We need to talk about my ex too.”

            “Okay.”

            “I was fucked up for a while, too, Lou. It’s not like I don’t understand, okay?” Harry reassures him. “We’ll be all right.” He says. “We like each other, right?”

            “I think we more than like each other.” Louis tries and laughs. Harry laughs with him, and Louis moves to get up.

            “Stay. I promised I’d bring it here.”

            “All right.” Louis agrees rapidly and Harry laughs again. He’s just so happy. He kisses him one more time and then goes to the kitchen.

            The smile Zayn gives Harry when he sees him there is all the approval he needs.

 

-

 

            On Monday Perrie calls Louis to tell him he needs to get his shit together, because she wants to hire Harry. Harry laughs loudly, because she’s on speaker, and Perrie says she’ll only forgive them for not telling her if Harry does her paperwork for his first month and Louis buys her drinks next time they go out. They both think it’s a fair agreement.

            Also on Monday, Harry meets Louis’ mother via facetime, and she makes them _promise_ to visit before the holidays are over. Harry’s about to protest that they have _just_ begun dating and he doesn’t want to impose when Louis says: “sure mom, we’ll make the necessary arrangements”.

            Harry waits for the call to end to ask him about it.

            “Are you sure you want me to meet your mom?”

            “You just did?”

            “I mean- properly. And the rest of your family.” He smiles.

            “I’m an all or nothing kinda guy, Hazz. If there is someone important in my life, this someone is going to meet my family. Is that all right?” Louis asks, placing a hand on Harry’s face, thumb lightly stroking his cheek.

            “Course it is. But my mom’s gonna get jealous.”

            “We can visit her too, if you want.” He says and chuckles. Louis leans in to kiss him, but Harry’s smiling so big that lips meet teeth. It doesn’t matter, it’s perfect anyways.

            (The second Harry meets Louis’ family he knows it’ll be his too, forever. By Christmas time both their moms will have made plans to spend the holidays together, and before they know it there will be no such thing as separate families. Every event is for all of them. Neither complains one bit.)

           

            “Gemma wants to know if we’re up to hanging out tonight.” Harry mentions, checking his phone. “She’s antsy to meet you.”

            “Uh, can we do it tomorrow?” Louis asks.

            “Why?”

            “‘Cause it’s just come to my attention that we’re making plans to go meet each other’s families but we still haven’t made _us_ official.”

            “Louis Tomlinson, will you be my boyfriend?” Harry smiles, pulling him in closer by the waist.

            “NO, DON’T YOU DARE RUIN IT FOR ME!” Louis threatens.

            “What?” He chuckles.

            “I can’t be your boyfriend before we’ve gone out on a proper _date_ , Harry.” The other boy explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is; Harry just doesn’t think he cares…

            But then… Then Louis kisses him softly, looks at him fondly, and says the words Harry’s been waiting for him to say since that very _third_ night at his door:

 

            _“Will you go on a date with me tonight, Harry Styles?”_

 

            The rest, as they say, is history. And Louis and Harry make a whole lot of it. For years and years to come.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what your thoughts are, please? :D
> 
> A new chaptered fic is coming your way in just a bit. I promise!
> 
> Much love as always, M.  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ifmelcouldfly) | [tumblr](http://downgoesanotherhero.tumblr.com/)


End file.
